.N  FIN  NET 


Of  GALff.  UMAKY.  LOS  AN 


IN  NAAMAN'S 
HOUSE 

BY 

MARIAN  MACLEAN  FINNEY 


THE  ABINGDON  PRESS 
NEW  YORK  CINCINNATI 


Copyright,  1922,  by 

MARIAN  MACLEAN  FINNEY 


Printed  in  the  United  States  of  America 


TO 
MY  FRIENDS 

"Other  blessings  may  be  taken  away,  but  if  we 
have  acquired  a  good  friend,  we  have  a  blessing 
which  improves  in  value  when  all  others  fail." 


21 £9625 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.  NEW  ACQUAINTANCES 7 

II.  SURPRISES 18 

III.  VISITORS 29 

IV.  CAPTIVES 40 

V.  JOURNEYING 51 

VI.  DAMASCUS 63 

VII.  WAYFARERS 74 

VIII.  DOUBTS 85 

IX.  INTRODUCTIONS 95 

X.  HANNATHON 107 

XI.  CONFESSION 117 

XII.  UNDERSTANDING 129 

XIII.  CHANGES 139 

XIV.  DECISION 151 

XV.  CONSTERNATION 162 

XVI.  HOPE 173 

XVII.  REWARDS 185 

XVIII.  PLANS 196 

XIX.  HOME 206 

XX.  DEVOTION 218 

XXI.  TIDINGS 228 

XXII.  MEETINGS 239 

XXIII.  ISRAEL 249 

XXIV.  WAITING 261 

XXV.  ANTICIPATION 274 

XXVI.  CERTAINTY 285 


CHAPTER  I 
NEW  ACQUAINTANCES 

"I  LIKE  not  the  maiden,  Caleb.  No  good  will 
come  of  taking  in  this  daughter  of  strange  people." 

"Thy  words  belie  thy  kind  heart,  Sarah.  Thou 
wert  willing  to  take  under  our  care  the  child  of  my 
kinsman,  even  though  estranged  from  his  father's 
house  by  his  marriage.  I  fear,  however,"  and  the 
man's  voice  was  troubled,  "that  we  shall  not  be 
able  to  make  her  happy." 

"Make  her  happy !"  broke  in  the  woman's  indig- 
nant tones.  "I  fear  that  she  will  not  be  able  to 
make  herself  useful.  She  hath  not  so  far."  Then, 
more  gently,  "Yet  is  she  welcome  to  all  we  can  do 
for  her  now  that  she  hath  no  kin  save  us,  but  I  am 
fearful  because  her  mother  was  of  the  natives  of 
Canaan  so  that  she  hath  not  been  instructed  in  the 
way  of  Jehovah.  If  she  should  have  a  wrong  in- 
fluence over  our  little  Miriam !" 

The  woman  in  the  doorway  glanced  over  her 
shoulder  at  the  scene  within  the  dwelling  where  an 
animated  conversation  was  in  progress. 

"Awake,  Judith.  I  myself  have  awaked  early. 
See,  the  door  hath  been  opened  and  the  fresh  morn- 
ing breezes  blow  sweet  after  the  night-time  when  no 
air  cometh  in  at  all.  Father  hath  almost  finished 


8  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

leading  out  the  animals.  Did  they  bother  thee  last 
night  with  their  stamping?  Peradventure  some  wild 
animal  was  prowling  about  outside.  Is  it  not  a  fine 
arrangement  to  have  the  mangers  built  between 
their  part  of  the  house  and  ours  ?  And  is  it  not  com- 
forting to  know  that  at  night  and  on  stormy  days 
they  are  safe  under  the  same  roof  with  us?  Art 
thou  still  asleep?" 

An  older  maiden  sprang  to  her  feet.  "Who  could 
sleep  through  thy  chatter,  Miriam?  Thou  makest 
more  noise  than  the  oxen  and  the  asses  and  the  cow 
and  the  calf  all  put  together."  But  a  smile  tempered 
the  severity  of  the  speech. 

The  younger  and  smaller  maid  laughed  delight- 
edly and  stooping  to  the  floor  began  to  fold  the 
thickly  padded  rug  or  quilt  on  which  she  had  slept, 
depositing  it  in  a  nook  in  the  wall  apparently  built 
for  the  purpose  and  keeping  up  a  steady  stream  of 
talk  designed  to  be  informing  to  the  new  arrival. 

"If  our  olive  trees  have  a  good  crop  this  year, 
we  are  going  to  have  curtains  to  hide  the  beds.  Last 
year  father  built  this  wooden  floor  to  raise  our  liv- 
ing room  above  the  ground  where  the  animals  stay. 
It  is  cleaner  and  dryer  now  and  ants  and  mice  do  not 
trouble  us  so  much.  Thinkest  thou  not  we  have  a 
splendid  home?" 

Judith's  somewhat  cool  response  caused  Miriam 
to  look  at  her  in  hurt  surprise.  The  mother  flashed 
a  reassuring  smile  from  her  seat  in  the  doorway, 


NEW  ACQUAINTANCES  9 

though  never  ceasing  for  a  moment  her  skillful 
manipulation  of  a  large  sieve.  It  was  tossed  and 
shaken  and  every  few  minutes  tilted  sideways  to 
allow  a  tiny  shower  of  straws  and  dust  to  fall  upon 
the  ground.  While  Miriam  took  up  the  beds  Judith 
was  required  to  assist  her  aunt  in  grinding  the  newly 
sieved  grain.  With  a  steady,  monotonous  motion 
they  worked  the  wooden  handle  of  the  mill  back  and 
forth,  back  and  forth,  never  hastening  but  never 
stopping  until  at  last  the  sound  of  the  grinding  be- 
came lower  and  lower  and  finally  ceased,  the  whole 
grains  of  wheat  having  been  crushed  into  a  coarse 
powder  between  the  upper  and  lower  stones  of  the 
mill. 

It  did  not  take  long  for  this  to  be  made  up  into 
dough,  patted  into  small,  flat  cakes,  and  baked 
quickly  in  the  out-of-doors  oven  made  of  heated 
stones.  By  ten  o'clock,  as  was  usual  in  the  Land 
of  Israel,  the  morning  repast  was  ready:  hot  bread, 
fresh  milk,  and  to-day  there  were  young  onions 
dipped  in  salt.  Had  this  been  winter  instead  of 
spring,  there  might  have  been  a  handful  of  raisins 
or  a  few  olives  or  the  bread  might  possibly  have  been 
dipped  in  grape-syrup.  This  meal  was  always  rel- 
ished, however,  for  no  other  would  be  cooked  until 
sunset.  By  the  time  it  was  finished  the  morning 
mists  had  rolled  away,  the  sun  had  dried  up  the 
heavy  dews  of  the  night  before,  and  the  distant 
fields  were  calling  to  the  husbandmen. 


io  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

Linking  her  arm  through  Judith's,  Miriam 
guided  the  newcomer  through  the  one  long  street  of 
the  village. 

"Thou  hast  a  beautiful  name,  Judith,  almost  as 
beautiful  as  thyself." 

"A  Hittite  name,  Miriam,  what  thy  people  call 
'heathen,'  so  it  will  not  recommend  me  hereabouts, 
but  thou  art  named  for  one  of  the  great  women  of 
thy  race." 

"Oh,  not  because  she  was  great,"  was  the  quick 
response,  "but  because  she  was  useful  and  good. 
Knowest  thou  not  how  she  cared  for  her  baby 
brother,  Moses,  when  she  was  just  a  little  maid  like 
me?" 

The  conversation  was  cut  short  by  their  arrival 
at  a  dwelling  from  whose  open  doorway  voices 
floated  out  upon  the  balmy  air. 

"Thy  father  and  I  toiling  and  sacrificing  for  thee, 
our  only  child,  and  thou  rebelling  when  we  ask  for 
appreciation  and  obedience!" 

Another  voice,  choked  with  sobs,  made  answer: 
"Thou  didst  have  no  objection  to  Benjamin  until 
Abner  fancied  me." 

"Dost  thou  add  impudence  to  stubbornness?  It 
is  well  thou  hast  thy  father  and  me  to  see  that  thy 
folly  doth  not  ruin  thy  young  life." 

Catching  sight  of  the  two  hesitating  upon  the 
threshold,  the  woman  hastened  to  welcome  them, 
then  turned  to  the  girl  she  had  first  addressed: 


NEW  ACQUAINTANCES  n 

"Wipe  away  thy  tears  and  take  thy  water  jar.  See, 
Rachel,  here  is  Miriam  and  her  young  kinswoman 
from  the  Plain  of  Sharon,  a  maiden  of  thine  own 
age.  Go  with  them  and  be  diligent  in  thy  task,  but 
this  time  next  year  thy  feet  will  take  no  such  jour- 
neys nor  thy  hands  be  so  employed,  for  thou  shalt 
have  servants  to  do  thy  bidding." 

The  woman  turned  to  her  work  and  the  three  girls 
proceeded  on  their  way,  Miriam  walking  between 
the  grief -stricken  Rachel  and  the  envious  Judith, 
seeking  to  atone  for  the  silence  which  had  fallen 
upon  each.  Thus  she  began  to  speak  in  joyous  en- 
thusiasm : 

"Now  that  the  rains  are  over  for  the  season, 
dost  thou  notice  how  sweet  is  the  air?  Every  breeze 
bringeth  the  mingled  scent  of  wild  flowers  which 
the  hand  of  the  Lord  hath  planted  to  delight  the  bees 
and  us.  Even  from  here  we  can  tell  what  their 
faces  will  be  like  when  we  see  them  closer :  anem- 
ones and  poppies  and  wild  tulips  and  arbutus  and 
hosts  of  others.  Even  at  night  it  is  interesting  here, 
for  thou  canst  not  tell  whether  thou  wilt  be  awak- 
ened by  the  song  of  a  nightingale  or  the  howling  of 
a  wolf,  and  in  the  daytime,  see!" 

With  a  sweep  of  her  arm  she  indicated  the  light- 
green  garden  patches  and  wheat  fields  in  the  valley 
below  them  and  the  darker  green  of  the  olive  groves 
and  patches  of  oaks  and  pines  nestling  among  the 
rugged  gray  hills  on  every  side. 


12  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

Neither  of  the  girls  commented  and  Miriam  be- 
came silent. 

At  the  foot  of  the  path  they  were  descending  Ju- 
dith paused  to  take  breath.  "To  one  who  hath  but 
lately  come  from  the  level  plain  along  the  seacoast, 
the  mountains  are  wearying,"  she  remarked.  "Why 
are  thy  cities  perched  upon  the  hilltops  when  thou 
must  grow  thy  food  in  the  valleys  ?" 

As  Rachel  seemed  disinclined  to  talk,  Miriam  took 
it  upon  herself  to  answer:  "To  be  cool  in  summer 
and  relieved  from  danger  of  flood  in  winter  and 
safe  from  our  enemies  all  the  time.  Knowest  thou 
not  how  often  the  Syrians  have  swooped  down  upon 
us,  like  birds  of  prey,  seeking  that  wherewith  to  en- 
rich themselves?"  Then,  in  tones  of  sympathy: 
"The  path  will  not  seem  so  steep  when  thou  art 
used  to  it.  For  to-day  do  thou  rest  here  and  I  will 
make  two  journeys  to  the  spring,  one  for  thee  and 
one  for  me.  Thou  knowest  we  are  commanded  by 
our  Law  to  be  mindful  of  strangers  because  our  peo- 
ple were  strangers  in  the  Land  of  Egypt,  and  I  must 
remember  how  lonely  I  should  feel  to  have  to  live 
where  nobody  knew  or  loved  me  even  as  thou." 

Judith,  deeply  touched,  was  affectionately  declin- 
ing Miriam's  offer  of  rest  when  a  whoop  startled 
alike  the  echoes  and  the  girls  and  the  mischievous 
face  of  a  boy,  somewhat  older  than  Miriam,  peeped 
from  behind  a  rock. 

"Nathan !"    The  exclamation  was  full  of  distress, 


NEW  ACQUAINTANCES  13 

and  Miriam  gazed  at  a  shattered  water  jar  at  her 
feet.  "Knowest  thou  not  that  jars  cost  wheat  and 
sometimes  olives?  But,"  soothingly,  "never  mind, 
the  jar  is  not  wasted,  for  these  pieces  will  make 
drinking  cups  and  these  will  do  to  carry  coals  in. 
They  are  splendid  sherds.  Hast  thou  noticed,  Eli," 
as  a  still  older  lad  came  hurrying  toward  them,  "that 
no  matter  what  is  broken  there  is  always  something 
left?" 

The  entire  party  was  busy  picking  up  bits  of  pot- 
tery from  the  path,  when  a  youngish  man  joined 
them,  at  sight  of  whom  Rachel  immediately  called 
to  mind  an  errand  elsewhere  and,  with  a  whispered 
explanation  to  Miriam,  promptly  disappeared. 
While  the  newcomer  was  apparently  known  to  the 
younger  girl,  her  face  did  not  light  up  with  pleasure, 
although  he  addressed  her  gently. 

Were  they  bound  for  the  spring  ?  He  was  going 
in  the  same  direction.  He  had  not  met  Judith  be- 
fore. So  she  was  Miriam's  kinswoman  from  the 
Plain  of  Sharon  where  the  roses  grow.  Then 
Sharon  had  sent  her  most  beautiful  rose  to  bloom 
near  the  Jordan !  And  these  lads,  he  ought  to  know 
them.  Fine,  sturdy  boys.  Ah,  Hannah's  children. 
He  believed  that  they  and  their  mother  lived  on  a 
bit  of  his  land.  He  had  the  pleasure,  now  and  then, 
of  doing  them  little  favors.  Of  course  he  knew 
them,  should  probably  know  them  better  as  time 
went  on.  Lads  of  excellent  qualities  indeed ! 


I4  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

His  soft  voice  trailed  on  and  on.  After  the  man- 
ner of  the  Orient,  the  man  and  boys  walked  ahead, 
the  girls  following. 

So,  thought  Judith,  this  was  Abner,  the  rich 
suitor  for  Rachel's  unwilling  hand  and  she  (Judith) 
the  unwanted  guest  in  an  irksome  home.  If  only 
their  places  might  be  reversed !  But  no  hint  of  in- 
ward agitation  appeared  in  her  outward  manner, 
nor,  when  the  awe  with  which  the  boys  had  first  re- 
garded the  newcomer  had  gradually  changed  into 
friendliness  and  the  elder  of  the  two  had  been  be- 
guiled into  telling  an  original  story,  did  she  appear 
to  do  aught  but  listen. 

He  cast  it  in  the  form  of  a  fable,  after  the  man- 
ner of  the  young  theological  students  of  the  day,  the 
"Sons  of  the  Prophet,"  among  whom  his  father 
had  been  numbered : 

"Once  there  was  a  young  ant  who  lived  with  a 
large  colony  of  its  relatives  in  the  clean,  warm 
earth.  It  had  everything  to  make  it  happy,  a  good 
home  and  abundance  of  food,  yet  was  it  wroth,  for 
its  elders  required  it  to  work.  'Come/  said  they, 
'lend  thy  strength  to  the  task  of  carrying  home  this 
grain  that  we  may  live  and  not  die  when  the  wet 
winter  sets  in  and  there  is  no  food  to  be  had/ 

"This  little  ant,  however,  who  had  never  seen 
a  wet  winter,  was  rebellious  and  ran  off  to  hide 
and  sulk.  Soon  it  saw  a  strange  sight :  men  digging 
great  holes  in  the  fields  and  coating  the  floor  and 


NEW  ACQUAINTANCES  15 

walls  with  a  white  substance.  With  his  curiosity 
aroused,  he  went  back  to  the  spot  day  after  day  until 
the  sun  came  out  with  great  heat,  the  harvest  passed 
and  the  threshed  and  winnowed  grain  was  care- 
fully stored  in  these  underground  chambers,  the 
cavities  being  closed  in  such  a  way  that  thieves 
could  not  readily  discover  its  hiding  place. 

"  'Ah/  said  the  ant,  'here  is  my  opportunity. 
Once  inside  such  a  place  as  that,  I  should  have  no 
fear  of  cold  or  hunger,  such  as  my  elders  are  always 
trying  to  guard  against.  Naught  would  I  have  to  do 
but  eat,  sleep  and  grow  fat.  Then  should  I  be  happy.' 

"Forthwith  he  watched  his  chance  and  slipped 
into  a  little  opening  just  before  the  workmen  closed 
it.  Alas  for  his  expectations,  however,  for  where 
moth  and  rust  could  not  flourish  neither  could  an 
ant.  In  the  stifling  atmosphere  he  began  to  grow 
faint.  Tortured  in  body  with  this  nauseating  sick- 
ness and  in  mind  with  the  thought  that  he  had 
brought  all  this  trouble  upon  himself  by  his  sloth 
and  selfishness,  he  finally  expired." 

Miriam,  who  had  listened  with  rapt  attention,  now 
beamed  upon  Judith,  who  stifled  a  yawn.  The  next 
instant  she  clutched  the  younger  maid's  arm.  "See, 
Miriam,  the  little  gorge  below  us  is  filled  with  in- 
numerable gray  shapes,  and  from  the  sound  of  a 
reed  flute  which  ascends  to  us  I  perceive  that  it  is 
a  shepherd  with  his  flock." 

They  came  nearer  the  objects  pointed  out.  Miriam 


1 6  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

gave  one  look  and  a  joyous  little  cry :  "It  can  be  no 
other  than  my  brother,  Benjamin,  whom  thou  hast 
not  met  before,  Judith.  He  giveth  my  father's 
flock  a  drink  below  the  spring  where  the  water  flow- 
eth  still  and  quiet  so  they  will  not  be  frightened.  See, 
he  carrieth  a  lamb  in  his  bosom.  Is  it  not  nice  that 
men  wear  such  long,  loose  garments  belted  in  at 
the  waist,  so  they  can  gather  the  fullness  together 
wherewith  to  carry  things  ?" 

By  this  time  they  were  near  enough  for  greetings. 
Miriam  bounded  forward  with  an  eager  salutation 
for  Benjamin  and  much  compassion  for  the  lamb. 
"See,  Judith,  it  is  all  torn  and  bleeding,  but  its  good 
shepherd  hath  anointed  its  wounds  with  oil  and 
even  put  some  on  its  head  to  comfort  and  refresh 
it." 

Judith  listened  and  smiled.  From  under  lids  dis- 
creetly lowered  she  was  conscious  that  both  the 
very  young  man  and  the  older  one  were  stealing 
glances  of  approval  at  her. 

"Peradventure,"  she  thought,  "it  may  not  be  so 
uninteresting  here  after  all." 

Abner  also  listened  and  smiled,  making  mental 
calculations.  As  he  moved  away  there  was  on  his 
face  a  look  of  resolution.  "Why  not?"  he  com- 
muned with  himself.  "Fine  lads  both  and  can 
become  useful.  The  younger  and  sturdier  can  care 
for  the  young  of  the  flock  while  my  shepherds  take 
their  mothers  out  to  graze.  The  elder  hath  a  re- 


NEW  ACQUAINTANCES  17 

markable  mind,  coming  as  he  doth  of  a  family 
which  combineth  Israel's  piety  and  culture.  He  can 
be  trained  as  a  clerk.  There  is  trading  to  be  done 
and  accounts  to  be  kept.  It  should  be  regarded  as 
a  kindness  to  their  mother.  Let  me  see,  how  much 
doth  she  owe  me?  Yea,  enough  and  more." 

Meanwhile  Sarah  had  observed  with  surprise 
Rachel's  hasty  return  and  now  watched  with  some 
anxiety  for  Miriam  and  Judith. 

"I  tell  thee,  Caleb,  friendship  with  a  heathen  bod- 
eth  no  good." 

"Surely,  Sarah,  no  harm  can  come  from  caring 
for  the  orphan  and  the  needy  as  we  are  commanded 
in  our  Law,"  and  the  man's  voice  was  almost  harsh 
in  its  reproof. 

"Seemeth  to  me  it  might  depend  somewhat  upon 
the  orphan,"  murmured  the  woman,  softly,  "and 
my  heart  hath  been  strangely  heavy  since  I  first  be- 
held this  maiden." 


CHAPTER  II 
SURPRISES 

CALEB'S  face  expressed  entire  approval  as  he 
looked  after  Judith,  disappearing  down  the  hill. 
"Thou  seest,  Sarah,  that  all  this  poor  child  needed 
was  instruction  in  the  way  of  righteousness." 

"And  firmness  to  see  that  she  walketh  therein," 
put  in  the  wife. 

"But  she  hath  a  willing  mind,  Sarah.  Hast  thou 
not  noticed  how,  of  late,  she  needeth  no  second 
bidding  to  go  to  the  spring?  She  doth  not  even  wait 
for  Miriam  to  help;  she  watcheth  to  see  when  the 
jars  need  refilling  and  seeth  to  them  most  dili- 
gently." 

"Yea,"  was  the  response,  "and  I  have  wondered 
what — "  but  Caleb,  sighing,  was  already  taking  his 
way  to  the  valley  as  Judith  neared  the  spring. 

A  little  smile  played  about  her  lips.  "How  strange 
it  is,"  she  thought,  "that  Benjamin's  sheep  need  a 
drink  of  water  and  our  jars  must  be  refilled  at  ex- 
actly the  same  time  every  day!" 

At  that  very  moment  Rachel,  with  a  tiny  reed  bas- 
ket of  bread  on  her  arm,  started  in  the  same  direc- 
tion. 

"If  I  should  see  him  while  I  feed  the  pigeons," 
18 


SURPRISES  19 

her  face  was  rosy  red,  "and  he  might  be  somewhere 
near,  although,  of  course,  if  I  knew  for  certain  I 
could  not  be  so  bold  as  to  be  there  too — " 

She  entered  a  little  gulch  whose  narrow  walls 
constantly  widened  as  one  neared  the  spring.  The 
air  was  sweet  with  aromatic  shrubs.  A  bird  hidden 
somewhere  seemed  about  to  burst  its  throat  with 
melody.  Insects  buzzed  a  little  song  of  content.  As 
the  girl  appeared,  a  flock  of  wild  pigeons  rose  from 
various  resting  places  and  circled  around  her  with 
the  familiarity  of  old  friendship.  Her  thoughts, 
however,  were  elsewhere.  Peeping  through  the 
bushes,  she  had  seen  Benjamin  and  Judith,  laughing 
and  talking  together  'with  all  too  evident  enjoyment. 
For  a  moment — or  was  it  several? — she  seemed 
rooted  to  the  spot  with  surprise,  then,  sick  at  heart, 
she  had  dropped  down  upon  the  coarse,  green  grass, 
grateful  for  the  overhanging  rocks  and  bushes  which 
gave  her  safe  concealment. 

To  think  of  Benjamin,  who  had  never  cared  for 
any  maid  but  herself!  They  had  been  childish 
sweethearts.  Around  her  neck  at  this  very  instant 
was  suspended  from  a  grass-woven  chain  a  brace- 
let of  dried  grasses  which  he  had  given  her  once 
when  they  played  at  a  wedding.  In  a  thousand  ways 
since  then  and  with  a  tenderness  she  could  not 
doubt  he  had  told  her  of  his  love.  Had  he  not  de- 
sired Caleb,  his  father,  to  ask  her  parents'  consent 
to  their  marriage?  True  it  had  been  refused,  Ab- 


20  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

ner's  proposal  having  been  received  unexpectedly  a 
day  or  so  earlier,  yet  she  and  Benjamin  had  hoped 
against  hope,  and  now — 

But  the  pigeons  were  insistent.  They  pecked  from 
her  basket.  They  alighted  upon  her  shoulders. 
They  watched  for  the  customary  open  handful  of 
crumbs  from  which  to  eat.  Mechanically,  since  they 
would  not  be  denied,  she  fed  them.  Abner,  passing 
along  the  brow  of  the  hill,  saw  both  tableaux.  He 
stopped,  looked,  and  passed  on,  pondering  deeply. 

"Rachel  is  the  gentler,  the  sweeter,"  he  said  to 
himself,  "but  this  maid  from  Sharon  is  likewise 
pleasing.  I  wonder!  Yea,  I  wonder!" 

In  a  little  while  Judith  started  homeward,  the 
smile  still  lingering.  "What  a  frank,  winning  boy !" 
she  meditated,  "and  not  unambitious,  either,  but  I  do 
not  envy  his  charming  Rachel  the  hard  work  and 
self-denial  she  will  have  as  a  shepherd's  wife. 
Strange  how  she  turneth  from  this  man  Abner,  who 
hath  treasures  of  oil  and  wine  and  grain;  who  hath 
men  servants  and  maid  servants." 

She  stopped  and  gazed  over  field  after  field  of 
barley  and  wheat,  now  almost  ready  for  the  harvest! 
"Had  I  but  her  opportunity!"  She  stamped  her 
sandaled  foot  to  the  great  peril  of  the  water  jar  and 
its  precious  contents,  but  her  rage  soon  spent  itself 
and  she  became  thoughtful.  At  last  she  drew  a 
deep  breath. 

"Why  not?"  she  asked  herself.     "Of  course  an 


SURPRISES  21 

Eastern  woman  may  not  decide  whom  she  will 
marry,  but  there  is  no  reason  why  she  should  not 
try  to  influence  her  fate  somewhat,"  and,  quite  calm 
again,  even  elated,  she  turned  her  face  toward  the 
home  she  found  so  irksome. 

Scarcely  had  she  passed  when  two  young  men 
crossed  hastily  the  well-worn  path  and  started  to 
descend  the  steep  sides  of  the  gulch.  Suddenly  one 
placed  a  detaining  hand  on  the  other's  arm  and  they 
dropped  down  behind  a  sheltering  bush,  peering  out 
and  speaking  guardedly. 

"Seest  thou  anything,  Isaac?" 

"Naught  do  I  see,  Lemuel,  but  what  one  is  apt  to 
behold  all  the  way  from  the  Dead  Sea  to  Damascus : 
a  romantic  little  gorge  and  a  pretty  maiden  feeding 
some  wild  pigeons.  I  thought  thou  hadst  discovered 
something." 

His  companion  regarded  him  with  amusement. 
"Something  thou  meanest,  Isaac,  to  breed  distrust 
or  caution  or  care,  whereas  the  'something'  was  only 
satisfactory.  Much  hast  thou  to  learn,  or  peradven- 
ture  thou  art  over- fastidious.  Knowest  thou  not 
that  women  were  made  to  delight  the  hearts  of  men 
— that  is,  as  long  as  they  keep  their  youth  and  their 
faith  in  us,  which  is  not  long  at  the  best — and  that 
our  journey  hath  been  singularly  barren  of  such  in- 
terests as  lovely  maidens  far  from  home?" 

The  information  was  received  coldly.  "Far  from 
home,  Lemuel,  but  not  far  from  what,  in  this  moun- 


22  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

tainous  land,  they  call  a  'road/  and  not  far  from  her 
city's  supply  of  water.  This  gorge  doubtless  con- 
taineth  a  spring  or  stream.  As  thou  art  aware,  they 
have  wells  only  in  the  lowlands.  The  maiden  is 
therefore  not  far  from  protection  even  if  /  were 
absent." 

The  other  laughed  sneeringly.  "Thy  bravery  and 
thine  honor  doeth  credit  to  thine  house.  Peradven- 
ture  it  will  purchase  thee  promotion.  It  shall  be 
reported  to  my  lord  N-a-a-m-m-m." 

A  hand  was  placed  firmly  over  his  mouth.  "Thy 
indiscretion  will  spoil  our  errand,  which  shall  also 
be  reported  and  to  the  same  source." 

A  not  unmusical  cry  came  echoing  down  the  glen : 
"R-  a-  c-  h-  e  1." 

The  girl  with  her  head  in  her  hands  neither  moved 
nor  answered,  but  in  a  moment  Miriam's  face  peeped 
through  the  foliage  and  lighted  up  with  relief. 

"Everywhere  have  I  searched  for  thee,  Rachel, 
and  Eli  hath  helped.  He  hath  a  new  story,  a  splen- 
did one.  Dost  thou  not  want  to  hear?" 

Rachel  gave  a  half-hearted  assent  and  the  two 
new  arrivals  threw  themselves  on  the  coarse  green 
grass  near  Rachel,  while  Eli,  smiling  in  response  to 
Miriam's  eager  encouragement,  began  the  story  she 
considered  so  wonderful : 

"Once  there  was  a  cave  which  the  hand  of  God 
had  hollowed  out  of  the  limestone  hills  and  in  front 
of  which  he  planted  bushes  to  hide  its  mouth.  At 


SURPRISES  23 

first  the  cave  was  happy  enough,  but  after  awhile  it 
became  envious  of  those  in  less  lonely  situations. 
Right  in  the  midst  of  its  discontent,  however,  along 
came  a  leopard  who  was  pleased  with  this  retired 
spot  and  brought  up  a  family  here. 

"Next,  there  arrived  a  band  of  robbers  who  slew 
the  wild  animals  and  deposited  themselves  and  their 
ill-gotten  gains  in  the  cave,  hiding  by  day  and  sally- 
ing forth  at  night.  At  last  some  of  the  thieves  were 
slain  in  a  battle  with  honest  travelers  and  the  rest 
of  the  band  fled. 

"From  that  time  on  the  cave-dwellers  were  of  a 
better  class.  It  became  the  abode  of  the  hunted  and 
oppressed.  Our  father  David  once  took  refuge 
here  from  the  fury  of  King  Saul,  and  many  a 
troubled  soul  afterward,  including  the  Man  of  God, 
Elijah.  But  its  greatest  usefulness  came  when 
Queen  Jezebel  established  Baal-worship  as  the  court 
religion  of  Israel  and  persecuted  the  prophets  of  the 
Lord. 

"At  this  time  Obadiah,  the  mayor  of  King  Ahab's 
court,  hid  herein  fifty  of  the  hundred  prophets  he 
saved  from  the  queen's  vengeance,  the  cave  being 
very  commodious.  Hereafter  it  was  known  as  'the 
prophet's  cave/  and  of  late  years  shepherds  have 
kept  provender  always  on  hand  so  they  may  resort 
hither  with  their  flocks  when  winter  storms  drive 
them  from  the  hills. 

"One  day  the  cave,  with  the  wisdom  of  years,  was 


24  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

reviewing  its  history.  'How  foolish  was  I  and  ig- 
norant/ it  thought,  'to  be  dissatisfied  with  the  place 
Jehovah  had  appointed  me  when  I  should  not  have 
been  nearly  so  useful  had  I  been  on  the  highway, 
where  I  would  have  chosen  to  be.' ' 

The  tale  ended,  Rachel  praised  it  faintly,  but  the 
younger  girl  beamed  delighted  appreciation,  watch- 
ing Eli's  departing  figure  as  long  as  she  could  see  it. 

"Doth  he  not  make  thee  feel  as  if  thou  wert 
standing  up  on  tiptoe  all  inside,  Rachel?"  she  de- 
manded. "Some  day  he  is  going  to  learn  to  read 
and  write  and  become  learned  in  the  Law,  as  was 
his  father,  and  go  about  the  country  teaching  and 
prophesying." 

Rachel  put  a  hand  to  her  head.  "Let  us  go  home," 
she  said,  "I  feel  weak  and  ill.  Peradventure  it  is 
the  summer  heat  which  hath  come  on  so  suddenly." 
She  staggered  to  her  feet. 

Miriam,  at  once  all  sympathy,  put  an  arm  around 
her  friend's  waist  and  they  took  the  steep  path  out 
of  the  gorge,  the  pigeons  still  circling  around  the 
empty  basket.  Only  once  did  the  smaller  maid  speak 
and  that  was  just  as  they  came  opposite  the  hiding 
place  of  the  two  strangers. 

"Thou  knowest,  Rachel,  that  Eli's  tale  was  a  true 
one,  being  of  our  own  prophet's  cave  here  in  this 
very  glen,  thirty  paces  beyond  the  fallen  sycamore 
tree,  its  mouth  hidden  by  the  sumac  bushes.  Thou 
wilt  remember  how  oft  we  have  been  there." 


SURPRISES  25 

Rachel  murmured  an  assent  and  they  moved  out 
of  sight  and  hearing.  The  young  men  rose  from 
their  cramped  positions. 

"The  very  place,  Lemuel,  thanks  to  our  small 
friend,  though  she  knew  not  whom  she  was  be- 
friending. This  night  shall  we  abide  there  and 
mark  the  spot  for  future  need.  This  is  a  rich  little 
valley.  To-morrow  we  separate,  each  taking  the 
way  determined  aforetime,"  and  with  swift  steps 
they  proceeded  in  the  direction  Miriam  had  indi- 
cated. 

The  perfumed  breath  of  May  lost  its  elusive 
sweetness  and  became  burdened  with  the  heat  of 
June.  The  evening  meal  was  over  and  the  last  faint 
radiance  of  sunset  was  swallowed  up  in  darkness. 
Caleb  closed  and  barred  the  heavy  door  against  the 
summer  breezes  and  the  family  spread  their  sleeping 
mats  in  preparation  for  rest. 

Judith  yawned  audibly.  "So  glad  am  I  that  this 
tiresome  day  hath  drawn  to  a  close." 

Miriam  was  scandalized.  "Glad  that  the  Sabbath 
is  over?  And  soon  after  sunrise  one  of  the  Sons  of 
the  Prophet  came  to  instruct  the  city  in  the  ways 
of  Jehovah." 

"But,"  insisted  Judith,  "I  like  not  that  long-haired 
Order  of  wayside  preachers  who  shout  and  denounce 
and  talk  mysteries." 

Caleb   felt  it  his   duty  to   impart   information. 


26  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

"Alas,  the  sacred  Order  is  not  what  it  was  before 
King  Ahab  took  unto  himself  the  foreign  Queen, 
Jezebel.  A  fine  soldier  and  statesman  was  Ahab, 
and  I  doubt  not  he  believed  he  benefited  Israel  by 
his  alliance  with  our  more  cultured  and  enterprising 
neighbors,  the  Phoenicians.  He  thought  much  about 
the  advantages  of  trade,  as  shown  by  his  treaty  with 
Ben-hadad,  the  Syrian  king,  whereby  the  merchants 
of  Israel  now  have  their  own  street  in  Damascus,  the 
great  capital  city  of  Syria. 

"Many  good  qualities  had  King  Ahab,  but  a  sorry 
day  it  was  for  Israel's  religion  when  he  allowed 
Queen  Jezebel  a  free  hand  to  spread  Baal-worship, 
even  to  the  persecution  of  the  prophets  of  the  Lord. 
Hundreds  were  put  to  death;  many  fled  to  more 
peaceful  homes,  such  as  Egypt,  and  others  still 
bowed  the  knee,  not  so  much  to  the  hated  Baal  as  to 
the  strong  authority  of  the  court.  Fear  threatened 
to  destroy  all  that  was  purest  and  best  in  the  land, 
but  the  Lord  of  Hosts  hearkened  to  the  distress  of 
his  people  and  granted  deliverance  by  his  prophet 
Elijah. 

"Since  then,  and  especially  in  these  later  years 
under  Elijah's  successor,  Elisha,  the  prophetic 
Guilds  have  been  revived  in  the  hope  of  spreading 
piety  and  some  degree  of  learning  among  the  people 
at  large;  they  who  have  been  exposed  for  so  long 
to  the  pernicious  teachings  of  the  priests  of  Baal, 
as  encouraged  by  that  wicked  woman,  Jezebel." 


SURPRISES  27 

"But  truly  the  service  of  Baal  is  much  more  joy- 
ous than  thy  worship  of  Jehovah  with  all  thy  strict 
observances  and  commandments,"  said  Judith, 
earnestly,  "and  why  call  Queen  Jezebel  'wicked'? 
It  was  but  courteous  to  a  foreigner  to  allow  her  to 
bring  her  own  religion  into  her  new  home,  and  nat- 
urally she  was  anxious  to  spread  the  teachings  in 
which  she  believed." 

In  tones  whose  sternness  was  softened  by  pity, 
Caleb  bade  her  hush.  "Thou  knowest  not  what  thou 
sayest.  The  'wicked/  through  the  pride  of  his  heart, 
will  not  seek  after  the  one  true  God.  They  care 
not  to  know  the  Law  by  which  we,  his  chosen,  are 
warned  and  in  keeping  of  which  there  is  great  re- 
ward. It  is  well  that  thou  shouldst  understand 
clearly — " 

A  hubbub  outside  claimed  attention.  Faintly  at 
first,  and  then  nearer  and  nearer  until  it  halted  out- 
side the  very  door,  came  the  yelping  and  barking  of 
dogs  mingled  with  the  sound  of  running  footsteps, 
and  voices. 

Miriam  crept  to  Sarah's  outstretched  arms.  "O 
mother,"  in  a  frightened  whisper,  "thinkest  thou  the 
Syrians  be  upon  us?" 

The  mother  held  her  close.  Caleb  snatched  up  the 
goad  ordinarily  used  for  driving  oxen,  the  sharply 
pointed  end  of  which  made  a  formidable  weapon. 
From  the  darkness  came  a  sound  of  labored  breath- 
ing and  a  woman's  sobbing  cry. 


28  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

"Open,  Caleb.  It  is  only  I,  Hannah,  and  my 
children,  Eli  and  Nathan,  and  the  dogs  rend  us." 

As  the  door  was  thrown  open  to  admit  them  she 
cried,  mournfully,  "Peace,  peace  be  to  thy  home, 
though  there  be  none  in  mine." 

She  was  almost  incoherent  with  grief.  "The  word 
came  to  me  but  a  little  while  before  the  Sabbath  and 
I  waited  until  the  passing  of  the  holy  day  to  hurry 
to  thee,  my  friends.  The  dogs  mistook  us  for  foes 
and  pursued.  In  the  darkness  we  stumbled  oft  and 
fell.  Yea,  we  are  bruised,  but  our  bodies  are  less  sore 
than  our  hearts,  for  Abner,  my  creditor,  taketh  my 
two  sons,  Eli  and  Nathan,  to  be  bondmen  for  debt. 

"Since  my  widowhood  have  I  lived  on  his  land. 
Oft  hath  he  brought  us  food.  Once,  twice,  thrice 
have  I  borrowed  of  him,  so  kind  hath  he  seemed. 
Always  he  urged  me  to  take  more  and  yet  more  than 
I  asked.  Never  once  hath  this  shame  seemed  pos- 
sible. Let  us  kneel  in  supplication  to  the  God  of 
our  fathers." 

"Yea,  Hannah,  and  I  doubt  not  he  will  hear  and 
answer.  Abide  thou  with  us  for  a  time  and  to- 
morrow we  will  see  if  aught  can  be  done." 


CHAPTER  III 
VISITORS 

OVER  the  peaceful  Israelitish  hills  came  the  piping 
of  a  reed  flute.  Anyone  familiar  with  the  country 
would  know  that  it  was  a  shepherd,  seeking  to  as- 
sure the  flock  of  his  continued  presence  that  they 
might  fear  no  evil,  but  to  the  young  man,  scarcely 
more  than  a  boy,  lying  prone  on  his  back  in  the  shade 
of  the  bushes,  it  conveyed  nothing  at  all,  yet  it  was 
the  only  sound  which  persisted  in  his  consciousness. 
He  lived  by  it  as  much  as  did  the  sheep  and  goats. 
When  the  tune  was  blithe  he  saw  sunlit  fields  and 
abundant  harvests;  shaded  glens  and  cool,  gurgling 
streams ;  a  palace  and  a  soldiers'  barracks ;  the  face 
of  an  old,  bedridden  woman  and  a  delicately  pretty 
girl  feeding  pigeons  in  a  romantic  spot.  When  the 
notes  were  sad — as  they  frequently  were — he  de- 
fended this  maid  from  some  grave  peril  in  which 
the  odds  were  all  against  him. 

There  came  a  day,  however,  when  he  no  longer 
raved  in  delirium,  but  looked  upon  his  surroundings 
with  recognition  in  his  eyes.  He  tried  to  sit  up,  to 
reach  a  little  water-bag  that  looked  cool  and  com- 
forting, but  finding  himself  weighted  down  with  a 
strange  heaviness,  contented  himself  with  gazing 

29 


30  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

around  wonderingly.  The  sky  seemed  so  near.  No, 
it  was  not  the  sky.  It  was  a  covering  of  skins  sewed 
together  and  stretched  from  one  bush  to  another 
over  him.  Nothing  else  save  the  interminable  flute 
which  told  his  newly  awakened  senses  that  the  shep- 
herd was  near.  It  was  all  so  soothing,  just  lying 
there,  and  he  was  so  unexpectedly  weak,  that  he 
closed  his  eyes  and  sank  into  a  deep  and  refreshing 
slumber. 

When  he  awoke  the  canopy  over  his  head  had  been 
removed  and  he  gazed  at  the  brilliant  stars.  Looking 
around,  he  decided  that  he  must  be  inside  of  a  sheep- 
fold.  By  the  moonlight  he  discerned  roughly  built 
stone  walls  on  four  sides.  The  open  entrance  was 
guarded  by  a  recumbent  shepherd,  staff  in  hand, 
alert,  watchful.  One,  two,  three  other  figures  he 
counted,  evidently  sleeping  heavily  beside  great  gray 
masses  which  he  knew  must  be  sheep.  All  at  once 
a  scream  pierced  the  silence,  a  hideous,  unearthly 
sound,  and  then  a  long,  lithe  body  leaped  over  the 
wall. 

The  young  man  who  observed  these  things  knew 
instinctively  that  it  was  a  mountain  lion,  tempted 
far  from  its  rocky  lair  by  hunger.  He  knew  that  the 
shepherds,  instantly  awakened,  would  give  battle, 
and  that  they  would  be  more  than  a  match  for  any 
wild  animal  in  search  of  food,  but  a  sense  of  his  own 
helplessness  swept  over  him.  He  saw  the  terror  of 
the  sheep,  the  mangled  body  of  a  victim,  heard  the 


VISITORS  31 

cry  of  its  mother,  and  then  a  great  wave  of  sickness 
shut  out  sight  and  sound.  He  had  fainted  from 
sheer  weakness. 

A  little  later  he  opened  his  eyes  upon  the  troubled 
face  of  the  shepherd — his  shepherd,  as  he  soon 
learned  to  call  him  in  distinction  from  the  others, 
who  paid  him  but  scant  attention.  It  was  a  kindly, 
pleasant  face,  over-thoughtful  perhaps  but  with 
health  and  youth  written  large  under  its  tan.  In 
the  days  that  followed,  the  invalid  found  himself 
grasping  at  the  strength  and  energy  radiated  by  this 
personality,  basking  in  his  sunny  smile,  entertained 
and  quite  frequently  instructed  by  his  conversation, 
cheered  and  encouraged  by  his  practical  helpfulness. 

If,  however,  the  convalescent  was  pleased  with 
the  shepherd,  how  much  more  was  the  shepherd 
pleased  with  the  convalescent !  Moved  at  first  merely 
by  motives  of  pity  and  generosity,  he  soon  took  a 
delight  in  the  presence  of  the  stranger  which  was 
wholly  inexplicable  to  himself.  He  had  never  met 
anyone — at  least  not  a  very  young  man  like  himself 
— who  possessed  such  a  fund  of  general  informa- 
tion and  seemed  to  have  such  mature  judgment.  He 
talked  as  one  who  had  lived  in  cities  and  associated 
with  those  who  had  seen  much  of  that  world  which 
was  new  and  strange  to  this  mountain  lad  who  had 
spent  his  eager,  responsive  youth  hand-in-hand  with 
Toil  and  Responsibility,  as  youth  often  does  in  the 
East. 


32  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

One  day,  under  the  shadow  of  a  great  rock  which 
shielded  them  from  the  heat  of  the  mid-summer  sun, 
they  were  talking.  "How  long  sayest  thou  I  have 
been  here,  Benjamin?" 

"It  is  eight  weeks,  Isaac,  since  I  found  thee  under 
the  bushes  yonder,  sick  with  fever." 

"Then  eight  weeks  hast  thou  cared  for  me,  night 
and  day.  How  knewest  thou  that  I  was  not  a  rob- 
ber, or,  worse  still,  what  thy  countrymen  despise 
most,  a  Syrian  spy?"  The  tone  was  careless  and 
breathed  a  laugh,  but  the  speaker  glanced  searchingly 
at  his  companion,  who,  after  a  moment's  silence,  re- 
plied quietly: 

"I  stopped  but  to  consider  thy  pressing  need,  Isaac, 
for  our  Law  commandeth  us  to  regard  the  necessity 
of  the  stranger,  but  if  I  had  thought  further,  the 
pack  on  thy  back  would  have  proclaimed  thee  a  ped- 
dler, though  thy  stock  be  small.  Likewise,  thy  pro- 
nunciation showeth  that  our  tongue  is  native  to 
thee  and  thou  hast  an  Israelitish  name." 

Isaac  sighed  and  there  sounded  in  it  something  of 
relief.  "My  mother  was  of  thy  nation,"  he  ex- 
plained, "a  captive  in  Syria,  where  she  married  my 
father,  who  was  of  Egyptian  blood  and  a  servant 
in  the  same  house  with  herself.  I  am  named  for 
some  of  her  people  and  she  spoke  to  me  always  in 
her  own  language."  Then,  hastily,  as  if  he  feared 
questions:  "But  for  thee  I  might  have  died,  an 
awful,  burning  death  here  in  the  wilderness,  without 


VISITORS  33 

even  a  drink  of  cold  water  to  allay  my  thirst  or  a 
friend  to  save  my  body  from  the  vultures." 

"Think  not  of  it,  Isaac.  It  is  only  thy  departure 
on  the  morrow  which  saddeneth  me.  Caring  for 
thee  was  as  balm  to  a  sore  heart,  better  than  all  the 
aromatic  herbs  in  Gilead." 

Isaac  looked  questioningly :  "A  woman?" 

The  shepherd  assented.  "From  childhood  have 
I  had  no  thought  save  of  her  and  for  her.  When  I 
could  make  her  a  home,  I  desired  my  father  to  ask 
her  in  marriage  of  her  parents,  as  is  our  custom.  At 
first  they  were  willing,  as  I  had  believed,  but  their 
consent  was  refused,  the  maiden  being  pleasing  to  a 
man  of  greater  means.  Yet  was  she  true  to  me.  I 
had  it  from  her  own  lips  and  through  the  mouth  of 
my  little  sister,  Miriam,  of  whom  I  have  before 
spoken  to  thee.  All  at  once  the  maiden  changed. 
Deaf,  dumb,  and  blind  did  she  become  to  all  that 
concerned  me,  and  when  I  would  see  her  they  said 
she  was  sick,  which  I  cannot  believe,  and  I  had  to 
come  away  without  a  word  of  explanation.  It 
troubleth  me." 

To  Isaac,  more  worldly  wise,  the  reason  was 
plain.  "She  favoreth  the  other,"  he  said,  "and  thou 
shouldst  not  cherish  the  memory  of  one  who  hath 
treated  thee  with  contempt.  Canst  thou  not  think 
of  someone  else,  Benjamin?" 

The  shepherd  laughed  in  a  mirthless  way.  "None 
to  fill  her  place,  Isaac ;  nor  is  it  of  another  she  think- 


34  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

eth.  Nay!  One  there  was  who  always  appeared  at 
the  spring  when  I  was  waiting  for  my  beloved.  She 
was  a  clever,  amusing  maid,  but  a  life  with  her 
would  be  like  living  on  honey  without  any  bread." 

Isaac  nodded  in  comprehension.  "The  same  have 
I  felt  toward  all  the  maidens  I  ever  met  save  one. 
Once,  as  I  traveled  with  my  pack,  I  was  able  to  avert 
a  danger  she  knew  not  of,  and  her  face  hath  been 
in  my  memory  ever  since.  I  have  not  wished  to 
dislodge  it.  She  fed  wild  pigeons,  I  recall,  in  a  ro- 
mantic little  gorge." 

A  silence  fell  between  them,  each,  with  fine  feel- 
ing, unwilling  to  ask  for  details  not  volunteered. 

The  next  day,  at  parting,  Isaac  took  from  his  own 
arm  a  heavy  bracelet  of  gold  and  clasped  it  around 
Benjamin's.  "Not  for  its  value,"  he  insisted,  when 
the  shepherd  demurred,  "but  as  a  covenant  of  lasting 
friendship  'twixt  thee  and  me.  As  thou  hast  saved 
my  life  so  doth  it  belong  to  thee  or  thine  if  in  aught 
I  can  ever  serve  thee." 

The  next  minute  Benjamin  was  alone.  At  the 
turn  of  the  road  Isaac  looked  back  and  waved  his 
hand  in  farewell  and  the  shepherd,  with  a  sigh, 
turned  to  his  sheep  and  his  constant  thoughts  of 
Rachel.  He  did  not  know  that  at  that  very  hour 
events  of  considerable  importance  to  both  of  them 
were  taking  place  in  the  little  "city"  of  their  nativity. 

Noontime,  whose  brightness  had  no  power  to  dis- 


VISITORS  35 

pel  the  sorrow  which  hung  over  Caleb's  household, 
saw  Judith  slipping,  with  a  shudder,  out  of  its 
gloomy  portal.  Abner  was  coming  up  the  hill  as  she 
started  to  descend  it.  She  answered  his  pleasant 
greeting  with  assumed  diffidence. 

"I  hasten,  my  lord,  desiring  to  spend  a  time  with 
Rachel,  who,  as  thou  knowest,  hath  spent  these 
eight  weeks  and  more  in  the  house  and  mostly  on 
her  bed,  suffering  from  a  mysterious  sickness  none 
dareth  yet  to  name.  Save  that  she  hath  long  been 
secretly  betrothed  to  my  kinsman,  Benjamin,  who 
taketh  his  sheep  to  the  hills,  we  know  not  where,  and 
that  her  parents  are  very  wroth — yet  because  thou 
hast  looked  with  favor  upon  the  maid  would  I 
warn  thee — " 

"I  thank  thee,"  he  said,  slowly,  his  face  somewhat 
paler  than  usual,  and  the  two  hurried  their  separate 
ways. 

In  strange  contradiction  to  such  solicitude,  how- 
ever, Judith  did  not  visit  Rachel.  She  rarely  did. 
It  was  Miriam  who  sat  by  her  friend's  side  telling 
her  of  Hannah's  plight. 

"There  is  not  enough  grain  and  olive  oil  in  the 
whole  city  to  satisfy  Abner's  claim  and  save  Eli  and 
Nathan  from  bondage,  nor  will  he  wait  for  the  next 
barley  and  wheat  to  be  harvested.  As  for  grapes  and 
olives,  they  will  not  be  ripe  for  months.  Father  hath 
tried  to  shame  Abner,  but  he  saith  he  is  grieved  to  be 
so  misunderstood;  that  Hannah  should  be  grateful 


36  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

to  him  for  taking  upon  himself  the  burden  of  her 
sons'  support." 

Apparently,  Rachel  was  not  in  a  mood  for  con- 
versation. The  younger  girl  gazed  at  her  in  great 
dejection  for  a  few  minutes  and  a  tear  splashed  down 
on  her  hand.  "It  would  be  easier  to  bear  other  peo- 
ple's troubles,  Rachel,  if  one  cou!4  help.  I  am  going 
to  bathe  thy  feverish  face  and  hands  and  take  down 
thy  hair.  Thou  shalt  hold  the  little  mirror  of  pol- 
ished bronze  that  Ezekiel,  thy  kinsman  in  Damascus, 
sent  thee."  Suiting  the  action  to  the  word  she  went 
on  talking:  "Damascus  must  be  a  very  great  city, 
peradventure  almost  twice  as  large  as  ours.  Father 
hath  told  me  about  the  war  between  Israel  and  Syria 
and  the  treaty  of  peace,  so  that  Syrian  merchants 
may  come  to  Israel  and  a  street  hath  been  set  aside 
in  Damascus  in  which  our  people  may  dwell." 

Rachel  seemed  to  take  no  more  interest  in  foreign 
affairs  than  in  those  at  home,  but  the  little  maid  was 
not  discouraged.  "Thou  art  more  comfortable  now. 
Thou  hast  been  sick  ever  since  that  day  the  heat 
overcame  thee  in  the  gorge  when  thou  wert  feeding 
the  pigeons,  but  thou  dost  not  have  to  go  on  being 
miserable.  Thou  knowest,  the  Lord  is  thy  strength 
and  song.  I  am  going  to  see  how  Hannah  doeth 
and  remind  her  of  this.  She  abode  with  us  through 
the  night,  but  now  she  is  in  her  own  house.  First, 
though,  I  shall  sing  thee  to  sleep.  Thou  seest  I  have 
brought  my  timbrel.  Then  will  I  steal  softly  away." 


VISITORS  37 

Having  made  good  her  word,  Miriam  was  about 
to  depart  when  the  kindly  voice  of  Rachel's  mother 
detained  her:  "Stay,  Miriam,  yet  a  moment  and 
take  to  Hannah  this  little  pot  of  oil.  The  gift  is  not 
much  to  her  that  dwelleth  in  the  house  of  sorrow,  but 
it  carrieth  a  message  of  sympathy." 

Halfway  to  her  destination  Miriam  met  Judith. 
"I  have  been  seeking  for  thee,"  said  the  older  girl. 
"Knowest  thou  that  we  have  a  guest,  a  man?  He 
hath  come  from  a  distance  in  the  heat  and  dust,  and 
I  have  been  to  draw  cool,  fresh  water  wherewith 
to  bathe  his  hands  and  feet  and  so  refresh  him 
while  thy  mother  prepareth  a  meal  to  set  before 
him." 

Miriam  hazarded  a  few  guesses  as  to  the  identity 
of  their  visitor,  but  Judith  shook  her  head.  "It  is 
none  whom  thou  hast  mentioned,  but  who  it  is  I 
know  not.  He  weareth  a  mantle." 

"Then  he  is  one  of  the  prophets." 

"Nay,  for  he  is  bald  and  the  prophets  wear  long 
hair.  Neither  hath  he  the  appearance  of  a  fanatic, 
as  do  they.  Rather,  he  seemeth  like  some  well-to-do 
man  of  the  cities,  peradventure  a  merchant.  His 
speech  is  gracious  and  gentle  and  he  carrieth  a  walk- 
ing stick  like  any  serious-minded,  elderly  gentleman. 
He  is  attended  by  a  younger  man  and  thy  father 
did  him  great  obeisance.  Also — " 

But  Judith  was  alone.  Miriam  was  running  like 
some  wild  thing  straight  to  Hannah's  house.  Out 


38  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

of  breath  she  stumbled  over  the  threshold  and  thrust 
the  pot  of  oil  into  the  woman's  hands. 

"Hannah — Hannah — the  Man  of  God  hath  come, 
my  lord  Elisha,  and  even  now  sitteth  at  meat  in  our 
house.  Do  thou  go  quickly.  Thy  husband  was  of 
his  young  men.  Do  thou  tell  him  about  Abner  taking 
Eli  and  Nathan  as  bondmen  for  debt.  Jehovah  hath 
sent  him  that  as  God  hath  been  thy  strength,  he 
shall  now  be  thy  song.  Hasten,  Hannah,"  but  Han- 
nah was  already  gone. 

Twenty-four  hours  later  Miriam,  wild  with  ex- 
citement, paused  on  the  threshold  of  Rachel's  house. 
Within  were  voices  and  while  she  hesitated  as  to 
whether  or  not  to  enter,  she  heard  the  message. 

Abner  had  sent  his  friend,  after  the  manner  of 
the  East,  to  speak  on  the  subject  of  his  betrothal  to 
Rachel,  not  to  bring  the  customary  gifts  and  make 
necessary  arrangements,  but  to  do  the  rather  un- 
usual thing:  to  withdraw  his  previous  proposal  on 
the  plea  of  her  ill-health.  The  affair  was  conducted 
with  elaborate  civilities  on  the  part  of  both  the 
emissary  and  Rachel's  parents,  hiding  the  contempt 
of  the  one  and  the  rage  of  the  other. 

It  was  a  very  awed  little  Miriam  but  one  with 
shining  eyes  who  held  Rachel's  hand  a  few  minutes 
after  the  messenger  had  departed.  "Art  thou  not 
glad?"  she  whispered. 

The  older  girl  nodded  slightly,  aware  of  her 
mother's  frown. 


VISITORS  39 

"And  Benjamin  will  be  so  happy,"  Miriam  de- 
clared, but  Rachel  sighed. 

"He  thinketh  no  more  upon  me,"  she  said,  and  re- 
fused to  be  comforted. 

The  general  gloom  of  the  household  was  soon 
overborne,  however,  by  the  tidings  Miriam  had 
brought.  At  the  feet  of  the  prophet  Hannah  had 
knelt  in  supplication  and  he  had  had  compassion 
upon  her  distress. 

"At  his  command,"  recited  Miriam,  joyfully,  "we 
borrowed  from  our  neighbors  all  the  empty  vessels 
possible,  then  she  and  Eli  and  Nathan  went  into 
their  own  house  and  shut  the  door.  Eli  told  me  what 
happened.  From  the  little  pot  of  oil  thy  mother  sent 
by  me,  Hannah  filled  all  those  vessels!  Then  came 
she  again  to  the  Man  of  God,  who  was  still  in  our 
house,  and  he  instructed  her  what  next  to  do.  Now 
she  hath  gone  to  sell  the  oil  and  pay  Abner.  Yet  will 
there  be  something  left,  for  I  heard  my  lord  Elisha 
say  unto  her,  'Live  thou  and  thy  children  of  the 
rest."1 

When  the  happy  comments  had  died  away  Miriam 
stroked  her  friend's  hair.  "Why  dost  thou  not  ask 
to  be  healed,  Rachel?  Let  us  go  to  the  Man  of 
God." 

But  Rachel  shook  her  head.  "I  must  not  ask  for 
what  I  do  not  want,  Miriam,  and  when  Benjamin 
no  longer  thinketh  upon  me,  why  should  I  desire  to 
get  well?" 


CHAPTER  IV 
CAPTIVES 

AUTUMN  had  come  to  the  Land  of  Israel.  The 
sun  had  just  lifted  a  shining  face,  but  in  more  than 
one  city  the  inhabitants  had  been  long  astir.  Before 
all  the  more  important  abodes  stood  asses,  saddled 
and  laden  with  water-skin  and  leather  provision  bag 
as  if  for  a  journey.  In  a  little  while  could  be  seen 
broken  lines  of  riders,  singly  or  in  groups,  wending 
their  way  in  slow  and  dignified  fashion  on  these 
same  sure-footed  animals,  over  the  narrow  threads 
of  rocky  roads  which  traversed  hill  and  vale.  All 
faces  were  turned  in  one  direction — Jerusalem.  The 
master  of  the  house  was  on  his  way  to  the  Feast  of 
Tabernacles,  or  the  Feast  of  the  Ingathering,  as  it 
was  sometimes  called. 

The  air  had  in  it  a  hint  of  frost,  being  too  chill 
for  rain,  but  nobody  minded,  certainly  not  a  misty- 
eyed  little  maid  who  was  walking  with  her  two  trav- 
elers to  the  brow  of  the  hill. 

"I  believe  thou  art  glad  to  see  us  go,  Miriam," 
said  Caleb,  teasingly. 

"Oh,  very  glad,  father.  It  is  right  thou  shouldst 
appear  before  the  Lord  with  thine  offerings,  for  he 
hath  dealt  bountifully  with  us,  and  I  am  glad  thou 

40 


CAPTIVES  41 

canst  take  mother  to  visit  her  kindred.  Long  hath 
it  been  since  she  hath  seen  them,  and  it  will  make 
her  so  happy,  but" — the  voice  trembled  a  little — "I 
would  be  gladder  if  this  were  the  day  thou  wert 
coming  home." 

Her  parents  exchanged  glances. 

"Thou  knovvest  that  the  olive  trees  had  a  good 
crop  and  the  vineyard.  Likewise  the  flock  hath  been 
profitable  and  thou  art  thinking  of  the  nose-ring  we 
shall  bring  thee,  or  was  it  anklets  thou  didst  choose?" 

"I  am  much  more  concerned  as  to  her  conduct, 
Caleb,  than  I  am  as  to  her  ornaments,"  put  in  Sarah, 
hastily.  "Remember,  Miriam,  I  shall  expect  thee 
to  behave  thyself  wisely,  in  a  perfect  way." 

"Yea,  mother,  but  when  thou  and  father  art  gone, 
how  will  I  know  what  is  wise  and  perfect?" 

Sarah  regarded  her  severely.  "The  Law  of  the 
Lord  is  perfect.  See  that  thou  keep  it.  The  testi- 
mony of  the  Lord  is  sure,  making  wise  the  simple. 
Remember  it.  The  commandment  of  the  Lord  is 
right,  enlightening  the  eyes.  Meditate  upon  it. 
There  is  no  chance  for  a  mistake  if  God  is  in  all 
thy  thoughts.  Miriam,  wilt  thou  keep  the  Lord 
alway  before  thy  face?" 

"Yea,  mother." 

"And  thou  wilt  not  be  turned  aside  to  the  right 
hand  nor  to  the  left,  no  matter  what  influence  is 
brought  to  bear  upon  thee?"  Sarah  glanced  appre- 
hensively back  at  Judith,  standing  in  the  open  door. 


42  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

"Nay,  mother." 

They  had  come  to  the  place  of  parting,  Caleb 
walking  ahead,  leading  the  two  asses.  Judith  could 
not  hear  what  was  said,  but  she  could  see  that  the 
farewells  were  lingering  and  affectionate.  A  great 
wave  of  longing  for  her  own  parents  swept  over  her 
and  she  turned  into  the  house  to  avoid  the  unsym- 
pathetic and  the  curious.  She  did  not  know,  there- 
fore, that  when  the  travelers  were  quite  hidden  from 
sight  in  the  distance,  Miriam  sank  upon  the  ground 
in  a  little  heap  of  wretchedness. 

Neither  did  Judith  nor  anyone  else  guess  that  at 
that  very  moment  the  mother  was  nervously  finger- 
ing the  bridle  of  her  beast.  "Long  have  I  wanted  to 
take  this  journey,  Caleb,  but  it  were  easier  to  talk  of 
than  to  do.  I  will  go  back.  I  cannot  leave  the  lit- 
tle maid." 

"Nonsense,  Sarah,"  and  a  stranger  would  have 
noticed  that  Caleb's  voice  was  none  too  steady,  al- 
though he  affected  cheerfulness.  "It  will  do  thee 
much  good  to  have  a  visit  among  thy  kindred." 

"But  thinkest  thou  all  will  go  well  while  we  are 
away?"  Sarah  was  still  hesitant. 

"How  could  they  go  ill  with  Hannah  to  stay  with 
Miriam  and  Judith,  and  Eli  and  Nathan  to  see  to 
the  animals?  Besides,  we  shall  be  gone  but  a  few 
days.  They  will  be  sorry  to  see  us  return,  for  youth 
joyeth  with  youth.  Mount,  I  pray  thee,  and  let  us 
be  going,  for  our  pace  will  be  slow  at  the  best." 


CAPTIVES  43 

Reluctantly  she  yielded  to  his  entreaties,  but  with 
many  a  backward  glance  and  an  anxiety  which 
seemed  wholly  unwarranted. 

Along  the  path  they  had  just  traversed  came  Ra- 
chel and  gathered  Miriam  in  her  arms.  "I  feared  to 
find  thee  so,  little  maid,"  she  comforted.  "Nay," 
compassionately,  "thou  must  not  weep.  And  if  thou 
wilt  dry  thine  eyes  I  will  tell  thee  a  secret  so  dear 
it  hath  not  been  whispered  before." 

It  was  a  rosy  and  radiant  Rachel  who  was  speak- 
ing now.  "Knowest  thou  that  when  Benjamin  came 
home  a  few  days  ago  he  told  me  something  that 
made  me  very  happy?  And  when  he  cometh  next 
time  we  are  to  be  publicly  betrothed.  My  parents 
have  consented  and  I  have  my  wedding  veil.  We 
must  go  back  to  thy  dwelling  now,  but  some  day, 
when  there  is  none  to  see  but  thee,  I  shall  try  it  on." 

She  raised  the  limp  figure  and,  talking  of  the  fu- 
ture to  divert  the  thoughts  of  her  grief-stricken  lit- 
tle friend,  guided  her  along  the  well-known  path  to- 
ward home. 

At  about  the  same  hour,  somewhere  out  on  the 
Israelitish  hills,  a  shepherd  was  leading  his  flock 
northward  under  pressure  of  military  escort.  His 
face  was  sullen,  but  all  at  once  he  laughed:  "It 
took  three  and  more  coming  to  take  captive  one  shep- 
herd of  Israel.  These  Syrian  dogs !"  He  laughed 
again,  contemptuously.  The  soldier  nearest,  under- 


44  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

standing  the  intent  if  not  the  words,  struck  him  with 
the  broadside  of  his  short  sword,  and  the  shepherd 
laughed  no  more. 

The  monotony  of  merely  going  forward  was  re- 
lieved a  little  later  by  the  passing  of  a  band  of  horse- 
men, coming  south.  The  shepherd  listened  apathet- 
ically to  what  was  evidently,  although  he  understood 
not  a  word,  an  exchange  of  civilities  and  compli- 
ments upon  the  capture  of  so  large  and  fine  a  flock. 
He  glanced  carelessly  at  the  gaily  bedecked  horse  of 
the  leader  and  then  at  the  man  himself.  It  was  a 
young  man,  and  all  at  once  the  shepherd's  indiffer- 
ence vanished.  He  had  the  face  of  a  friend !  Un- 
doubtedly he  and  his  flock  would  soon  be  free. 

Running  forward  quickly,  he  knelt  and  threw  up 
one  arm,  exposing  to  view  a  broad  gold  bracelet  of 
exquisite  design,  by  that  movement  plainly  seeking 
recognition.  The  young  officer  appeared  startled 
for  an  instant,  then  he  assumed  an  air  of  unconcern 
and  with  careless  farewells  to  the  soldier-escort  of 
the  flock,  he  and  his  men  rode  on. 

The  shepherd  crimsoned  at  the  rebuff.  "I  could 
swear  that  were  Isaac,"  he  muttered,  "even  to  the 
pallor  of  his  recent  illness.  Thus  hath  he  kept  his 
pledge,  a  promise  he  made  voluntarily.  So  would  a 
viper  repay  the  fool  who  warmed  it  by  his  fire !" 

Turning,  he  found  himself  the  object  of  mockery 
and  ridicule.  Unfortunately,  he  allowed  rage  to  get 
the  better  of  discretion.  He  was  captured,  but  not 


CAPTIVES  45 

conquered.  With  a  swift  movement  he  struck  one 
of  his  tormentors  a  stinging  blow  full  in  the  face, 
but  a  fellow  soldier  used  his  ever  ready  spear,  and 
after  that,  Benjamin  the  shepherd  went  his  way 
limping. 

It  was  the  next  day  that  Miriam  was  helping  Han- 
nah make  butter.  That  is  to  say,  a  goatskin  bag, 
nearly  full  of  milk,  was  suspended  out  of  doors  from 
the  center  of  three  crossed  poles,  and  they  were  shak- 
ing and  beating  it  with  great  regularity  and  violence. 
In  due  course  of  time  a  product  not  at  all  resembling 
the  butter  to  which  we  are  accustomed  rewarded 
their  labors.  With  a  sigh,  the  moist  and  dripping 
bag  was  carried  into  the  house  and  hung  in  the  cool- 
est spot  possible  that  its  curdled  contents  might  fer- 
ment and  be  used,  as  needed,  to  give  relish  to  other- 
wise dry  bread. 

The  task  finished,  Hannah  betook  herself  to  her 
own  home  to  be  gone  an  hour  or  two.  Miriam,  left 
alone,  dropped  down  in  the  doorway.  All  day  she 
had  been  unaccountably  heavy  of  spirit,  "not  sick," 
she  had  told  Hannah  in  answer  to  a  solicitous  in- 
quiry, "but  just  not  glad  of  anything." 

Was  it  only  yesterday  her  parents  had  started  on 
their  journey?  It  seemed  like  a  week.  And  what 
strange  sights  they  must  be  seeing  now!  Very 
strange  indeed  could  they  have  seen  through 
Miriam's  eyes,  for  her  thoughts  were  soon  jumbled 


46  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

by  the  sprites  of  Dreamland.  When  she  awoke  the 
afternoon  shadows  were  lengthening.  Hannah  had 
not  returned,  and  where  was  Judith?  If  she  were 
late,  Hannah  would  be  sure  to  tell  father  and  mother 
and  they  would  be  displeased.  Why  did  she  not 
come? 

Miriam  was  dismayed,  then  came  a  thought,  the 
horror  of  which  sent  her  running  to  the  top  of  the 
hill,  where  the  path  began  to  descend  to  the  valley 
below :  suppose  Judith  had  been  bitten  by  a  viper  out 
of  the  brushwood  she  had  gone  to  gather  for  fuel ! 
She  was  nowhere  in  sight,  although  she  had  been  ab- 
sent since  a  little  after  noon.  Slowly  Miriam  walked 
down  the  hill,  gazing  long  and  searchingly  in  all 
directions  until  she  stood  in  the  silence  and  loneli- 
ness of  the  deserted  fields.  How  find  anybody  or 
anything  among  those  rank  grasses,  grown  taller 
than  herself  now  that  the  harvests  were  over?  Yet 
at  that  very  instant  Judith  must  be  lying  among  them 
somewhere,  sick  perhaps  unto  death. 

Running  hither  and  thither  and  thoroughly 
alarmed,  Miriam  essayed  calling.  The  third  time 
her  hail  was  answered,  but  not  in  the  way  she  had 
expected.  Not  Judith  but  Nathan — Nathan,  pale 
and  frightened;  Nathan,  entreating  her  silence  but 
speaking  himself  in  hoarse,  excited  whispers. 

"Hush,  Miriam,  the  valley  is  full  of  soldiers !" 

She  was  amazed,  incredulous,  and  he  indignant 
at  her  unbelief.  "Thinkest  thou,  Miriam,  I  know  not 


CAPTIVES  47 

a  soldier  when  I  see  one?"  he  panted  as  they  ran. 
"Was  not  every  man  covered  from  neck  to  thigh, 
back  and  front,  with  his  breast-plate  of  bronze 
scales?  Did  not  each  wear  a  helmet  and  carry  a 
shield  on  his  left  arm  and  a  buckler1  slung  from  his 
girdle?  Some  had  long  and  heavy  spears;  some, 
bows  and  arrows  and  some  had  slings,  with  the 
stones  for  them  in  bags  around  their  necks." 

"But,  Nathan,"  suggested  Miriam,  weakly,  "per- 
adventure  our  king  passeth  this  way  with  his  body- 
guard." 

"Would  our  king  rob  Abner's  storehouses  in  the 
field?  Nay,  and  these  have  not  Israelitish  faces. 
Besides,  they  came  on  horses  which  they  have  left 
at  the  head  of  the  valley,  and  thou  shouldst  know 
that  horses  mean  war.  Canst  thou  not  run  faster, 
Miriam?  We  must  warn  quickly  mother  and  the 
city." 

The  little  maid's  face  blanched.  "I  must  find 
Judith.  Do  thou  go  on  and  I — "  Nathan's  remon- 
strances were  cut  short  by  the  sudden  appearance, 
out  of  the  tall  grass,  of  a  man  dressed  just  as  the 
lad  had  described.  He  laid  a  detaining  hand  on  each, 
addressing  them  in  their  own  language,  but  his  pro- 
nunciation showed  that  it  was  acquired. 

"This  time  to-morrow,"  pointing  to  the  village 
on  the  hilltop,  "our  archers  will  have  bent  their  bows 
and  made  ready  their  arrows  and  sent  fire  and  de- 

1  "A  short  sword  buckled  to  the  belt  or  girdle." 


48  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

struction  into  the  midst  of  thy  city.  None  shall  be 
left  alive  save  such  as  we  take  into  captivity." 

Miriam  wrung  her  hands  and  wept,  but  Nathan 
spoke  defiantly,  with  passion  in  his  tones:  "Thou 
knowest  not  that  we  of  Israel,  especially  we  of  the 
tribe  of  Zebulon,  fight  long  and  hard,  jeoparding  our 
lives  unto  the  death." 

An  evil  smile  distorted  the  man's  features. 
"Thinkest  thou  we  know  not  that  thy  men  are  away 
at  the  feast  in  Jerusalem?  To-morrow  this  time 
thy  land  shall  be  desolate  from  Jerusalem  north- 
ward, and  we  will  take  captive  thy  flocks  and  thy 
herds—" 

The  speaker  was  interrupted  by  the  arrival  of  an- 
other soldier,  dressed  much  the  same,  but  the  more 
elaborate  ornamentation  of  his  shield,  and  his  richly 
decorated  helmet  with  its  crest,  denoted  a  higher 
rank.  All  this,  however,  was  quite  lost  upon  Nathan 
and  Miriam.  They  noted  only  that  he  was  very 
young — older  than  Eli,  perhaps,  but  doubtless 
younger  than  Benjamin — that  he  bent  upon  them  a 
look  not  in  the  least  malevolent,  as  was  that  of  their 
captor,  and  that  when  he  spoke  to  them,  also  in 
their  own  tongue,  his  speech  was  as  free  from  for- 
eign accent  as  their  own.  Apparently,  he  had  au- 
thority, for  at  a  word,  the  first  soldier  withdrew. 

"I  happened  to  overhear,"  he  told  the  children. 
"Fear  not  nor  believe  what  Lemuel  hath  said.  He 
was  but  teasing  thee.  Our  men  went  no  farther 


CAPTIVES  49 

south  than  the  Valley  of  Jezreel,  which  is  a  long  way 
north  of  Jerusalem,  and  we  have  not  come  to  make 
war  upon  the  people  but  only  to  take  foodstuffs." 

The  two  gazed  at  him  doubtfully.  "Peradven- 
ture,"  sobbed  Miriam,  "when  thou  art  asleep  the 
other  soldier  will  do  these  terrible  things." 

The  young  man  laughed,  a  mirthful  laugh.  "Lem- 
uel ?  Nay,  he  could  not.  We  have  but  a  few  men 
and,"  with  some  little  pride,  "I  have  been  given 
charge  of  this  band." 

He  glanced  at  the  rapidly  declining  sun  and  his 
next  words  were  more  decisive.  "See,  it  is  almost 
sunset.  We  did  not  come  to  take  prisoners,  but 
thou  wilt  understand  that  I  cannot  let  thee  go  home 
to  give  the  alarm,  and  afterward  thou  wilt  prefer 
Syria  to  Israel." 

Miriam  was  distressed  anew. 

The  young  captain  reasoned  gently:  "To-night 
thy  household  will  think  thou  art  with  friends  some- 
where, but  they  cannot  seek  thee  in  the  darkness, 
among  the  half -wild,  scavenger  dogs  that  roam  thy 
villages  at  night.  By  dawn  they  will  have  other 
matters  to  engage  their  attention.  Thou  wilt  go 
with  me  now  to  our  encampment  in  the  gorge  by 
the  spring.  Come,"  to  Miriam,  "thou  shalt  have  a 
corner  of  the  prophet's  cave  all  to  thyself  to-night 
with  a  leopard's  skin  for  a  covering.  Thou  wilt 
like  that,  for  it  was  given  me  by  the  best  man  I  ever 
knew,  a  shepherd  of  Israel.  And  thou,"  turning  to 


50  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

Nathan,  "shalt  have  the  opposite  corner,  but  I  have 
only  one  leopard  skin  and  that  is  for  the  little  maid." 

There  was  something  very  attractive,  very  sincere 
in  his  address.  He  seemed  to  understand  their  ter- 
ror, their  distrust. 

"Be  not  afraid,"  he  said,  "thou  shalt  be  well 
treated.  If  not,  it  will  be  because  thou  dost  not  treat 
us  well.  To-night  we  encamp.  To-morrow  we  start 
for  Damascus,  but  thou  shalt  both  have  good  care 
all  the  way.  Isaac  pledgeth  thee  his  word !" 


CHAPTER  V 
JOURNEYING 

WHEN  dawn  came  Miriam  was  in  a  heavy  slum- 
ber. Strange  surroundings,  terror,  and  grief  had 
taken  as  large  a  part  in  keeping  her  long  awake  as 
her  bed  on  the  hard  floor  or  the  chill  dampness  of 
the  cave.  She  was  still  sobbing.  The  young  cap- 
tain bent  over  her  pityingly  for  an  instant  and 
tucked  in  the  leopard's  skin  to  keep  her  warm,  then, 
leaving  a  guard  at  the  door,  he  and  the  rest  of  his 
men  departed  upon  their  errand.  When  she  awoke 
she  discerned  Nathan's  sullen  face  in  the  half  light, 
and  it  aroused  her  to  an  immediate  comprehension 
of  their  plight. 

He  whispered  to  her:  "Thinkest  thou  I  shall  go 
to  Damascus  a  captive  ?  Did  the  Man  of  God  save 
me  from  bondage  in  my  own  country  only  to  go 
into  worse  in  a  heathen  land?  Nay,  but  I  shall 
escape,  and  when  I  am  gone  be  not  anxious  for  me 
nor  unhappy  for  thyself.  I  shall  come  back  to  my 
mother  and  Eli,  and  some  day  we  shall  rescue  thee. 
Do  thou  put  confidence  in  my  words.  Look  here." 

He  bared  his  arm  and  shoulder  and  with  gentle 
fingers  she  touched  the  welts  and  bruises,  exclaim- 
ing compassionately. 

51 


52  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

He  was  still  unconquered,  defiant.  "The  soldiers 
gave  these  to  me." 

"But  not  when  thou  wert  good  and  obedient, 
Nathan." 

"Nay,"  he  admitted,  and  fell  into  a  shamefaced 
silence. 

She  considered  a  moment.  "It  seemeth  to  me, 
Nathan,  there  be  times  when  we  cannot  help  what 
we  do,  only  how  we  do.  Dost  thou  not  remember 
how  our  father  Joseph  was  sold  into  bondage  in 
Egypt?  If  he  had  refused  to  make  himself  useful 
or  been  unfaithful  in  his  tasks — " 

Nathan  placed  his  fingers  warningly  on  his  lips 
and  Miriam  ceased  speaking  as  the  soldiers  swarmed 
into  the  cave,  so  putting  an  end  to  conversation. 

Breakfast  had  long  been  over  for  the  men,  but  in 
the  hurry  of  departure  the  youthful  commander  did 
not  forget  a  handful  of  raisins  and  dried  figs,  to- 
gether with  some  parched  corn,  for  his  small  pris- 
oners. He  insisted  that  they  eat,  then,  taking  the 
hand  of  each,  they  left  the  prophet's  cave,  turned 
their  backs  upon  the  gorge,  and  walked  leisurely  the 
valley  road  to  its  head,  where  the  animals  awaited 
them. 

"Hast  thou  ever  been  on  a  horse,  little  maid?" 

"I  never  saw  one  but  once.  That  was  when  the 
king's  messenger  passed  this  way." 

"I  shall  have  to  set  thee  in  front  of  me,  on  my 
horse.  He  will  go  faster  than  an  ass  but  not  so  fast 


JOURNEYING  53 

as  a  camel  at  top  speed,  and  in  six  days,  or  maybe 
seven,  we  shall  be  in  Damascus.  We  travel  slowly 
to  accommodate  our  speed  to  that  of  our  beasts  of 
burden,  heavily  laden  with  stores  from  thy  rich  little 
valley.  The  lad  will  be  on  another  horse  in  front 
of  one  of  the  men,  but  they  are  rough  and  boisterous. 
Wouldst  thou  not  rather  ride  with  me?" 

Without  waiting  for  assent  he  lifted  her  gently 
to  the  back  of  the  animal,  gave  a  few  directions  to 
his  men,  and  the  column  began  to  move.  There  was 
no  saddle  and  she  found  herself  slipping.  She 
grasped  desperately  at  the  horse's  mane,  but  Isaac 
had  anticipated  this  and  held  her  firmly  with  one 
arm. 

"It  will  be  easier  when  thou  art  more  used  to 
riding,"  he  comforted,  "but  I  will  not  let  thee  fall." 

A  long,  last  look  at  the  village  on  the  hillside  and 
then,  with  eyes  that  saw  not  for  tears  and  a  heart 
that  seemed  to  weigh  much  more  than  her  sturdy 
little  body,  Miriam  left  behind  all  that  was  dear  to 
her  and  began  the  journey  into  a  far  country. 

An  hour  later  a  maiden  climbed  slowly  and  pain- 
fully the  steep  path  up  from  the  valley.  At  the  top 
she  met  a  woman  with  horrible  cuts  across  the  face 
and  body,  weak  from  loss  of  blood  and  leaning  on 
the  shoulder  of  a  lad  whose  right  arm  hung  useless 
at  his  side. 

"Art  thou  hurt,  Judith?"       . 


54  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

"Nay,  Hannah,  but  if  thou  hadst  fled  from  one 
terror  to  another  ever  since  yesterday  afternoon 
when  I  first  beheld  the  soldiers  coming  up  the  val- 
ley, and  had  finally  lain  concealed  for  hours,  not 
daring  to  move  lest  thou  be  discovered,  chilled  by 
the  heavy  night  dews,  stiff  and  cramped,  frightened 
and  lacking  food,  thou  also  wouldst  walk  with  dif- 
ficulty." 

Eli  was  horrified,  reproachful:  "Thou  knewest 
the  Syrians  were  upon  us  and  madest  no  effort  to 
warn  the  city?  We  might  have  put  up  a  better  de- 
fense or  saved  some  of  our  supplies  by  hiding  them. 
As  it  is,  many  have  suffered,  a  few  even  unto 
death." 

He  paused  and  looked  shudderingly  at  a  swiftly 
approaching  cloud  which  darkened  the  air,  then 
quickly  drew  his  mother  inside  the  nearest  house. 
"The  vultures  descend,  having  scented  their  prey 
from  afar,  yet  few  were  slain  and  they  only  because 
of  desperate  resistance.  The  pale  young  man,  scarce 
older  than  I,  who  seemed  to  command  the  party,  had 
his  men  well  under  control.  He  reproved  the  soldier 
who  smote  thee,  mother,  and  stooped  over  thee  with 
horror  in  his  eyes,  himself  tying  the  cloth  which 
saved  thee  from  bleeding  to  death  and  which  I  could 
not  tie  with  one  hand.  I  could  love  him  were  he 
other  than  a  heathen  and  a  robber!" 

Turning  to  Judith,  who  had  followed  them,  his 
voice  became  stern:  "Knowest  thou  that  famine 


JOURNEYING  55 

stareth  us  in  the  face — and  thou  mightest  have  saved 
it?" 

The  girl's  tones  were  aggrieved :  "Gladly  would 
I  have  borne  tidings,  Eli,  if  I  could  have  done  so 
with  safety,  but  I  should  have  been  captured.  They 
have  taken  Nathan  and  Miriam,  and  a  veiled  maiden 
rideth  in  the  rear  who  somehow  reminded  me  of 
Rachel." 

Hannah  clasped  Judith's  arm:  "Thou  sawest 
Nathan  and  Miriam?  Tell  me — "  and  Judith,  who 
had  seen  and  heard  almost  everything  of  the  event- 
ful hours  just  past,  told  the  story. 

Meanwhile  Miriam  had  left  the  village-crowned 
hills,  the  fertile  valleys,  the  scattered  oak  groves; 
crossed  a  tree-studded,  grassy  meadow,  a  tangle  of 
ferns  and  brushwood,  and  descended  a  gorge  in 
the  midst  of  which  tumbled  and  roared  and  foamed 
a  stream.  The  atmosphere  seemed  heavy  with  a 
heat  not  derived  from  the  sun. 

"Hast  thou  seen  the  Jordan  before,  little  maid?" 
Her  answer  was  lost  in  the  confusion  of  fording 
the  river.  At  a  place  sufficiently  shallow  the  horses 
were  led  down  the  steep  and  slippery  bank,  alarmed 
the  moment  their  feet  rested  in  the  soft  mud;  terri- 
fied on  reaching  the  shingly  bottom  to  feel  the  swift 
tug  of  the  current  and  the  coldness  of  the  rapid 
waters;  cold  after  their  enforced  dip  and  taking 
quickly  and  easily  the  cliffs  and  steppes  to  the  broad 


56  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

plateau  above,  which  seemed  the  higher  because  of 
the  depression  of  the  Jordan  Valley.  The  wind 
swept  chill  out  of  the  snow-covered  mountains  to  the 
north,  toward  which  they  were  turning  their  faces, 
but  after  the  heaviness  of  the  valley  they  had  just 
left,  the  air  was  exhilarating  and  fragrant  with 
herbage. 

"We  are  east  of  the  Jordan  now,  little  maid,"  ex- 
plained the  young  captain.  "Seest  thou  how  much 
easier  it  is  to  travel?  It  will  be  fairly  level  all 
the  way  into  Damascus.  Thou  wilt  see  continual 
passing  to  and  fro;  much  cattle  and  many  camels 
and  asses,  and  people  that  will  look  strange  to  thee, 
but  fear  not." 

He  smiled  at  her  reassuringly,  but  her  eyes  held  a 
far-away  look  of  inexpressible  sadness,  at  sight  of 
which  he  became  silent. 

On  the  sixth  night  of  the  encampment,  Isaac  was 
decidedly  out  of  sorts.  Several  things  had  gone 
wrong  and  the  party  was  much  overdue.  There 
had  first  been  trouble  among  the  pack-animals.  This 
adjusted,  it  had  been  found  that  one  of  the  soldiers, 
whose  wounds  had  been  thought  of  little  conse- 
quence, had  grown  rapidly  worse,  and,  lastly,  their 
boy-captive  had  escaped.  The  veiled  woman  was 
gone  likewise,  but  that  mattered  little. 

In  a  retired  spot,  somewhat  removed  from  the 
noises  of  the  camp,  they  had  spread  a  goat's-hair 


JOURNEYING  57 

tent  and  built  a  fire  at  a  little  distance  so  that  its  light 
would  not  play  unpleasantly  upon  the  features  so 
soon  to  be  relaxed  in  death.  Isaac,  who  had  taken 
the  care  of  the  sick  man  upon  himself,  watched  alone 
save  for  Miriam,  who  lay  asleep  in  one  corner  of 
the  tent.  For  six  days  now  he  had  been  solicitous 
for  her  comfort,  not  from  any  personal  interest  but 
as  a  matter  of  war  economics.  It  would  be  awk- 
ward if  fright  or  cold  or  hardship  should  result  in 
her  illness  and  they  so  far  from  Damascus.  On  her 
part,  the  little  maid  was  losing  her  fear  of  this 
young  man,  who  treated  her  with  no  unkindness  or 
lack  of  gentle  consideration. 

Lost  in  thought,  he  sat  gazing  moodily  into  the 
fire.  Odd  about  the  woman!  Doubtless  she  had 
now  joined  herself  to  some  one  of  the  caravans  they 
were  constantly  passing.  Lemuel  had  described  her 
as  a  camp  hanger-on,  and  her  veil  was  evidence  of 
her  loose  moral  character,  since  neither  matron  nor 
maid  of  good  repute  at  that  period  went  veiled  save 
at  marriage  or  while  journeying,  yet  for  six  days 
she  had  shown  every  sign  of  shrinking  timidity,  and 
he  had  seen  to  it  that  she  was  treated  with  respect. 
He  had  asked  Nathan  if  he  knew  her,  but  the  boy 
had  replied  sullenly  in  the  negative  without  turning 
his  head.  He  had  asked  the  little  maid,  but  her  eyes 
had  been  full  of  tears.  For  several  reasons  it  had 
not  seemed  best  to  allow  speech  between  the  captives, 
and  so  the  mystery  had  remained. 


58  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

He  had  not  himself  questioned  her,  being  irritated 
that  she  rode  the  horse  he  had  brought  for  the 
maiden  whose  face  had  been  in  his  memory  ever  since 
that  day  he  saw  her  feeding  pigeons  in  the  gorge. 
He  had  meant  to  show  special  leniency  to  her  family 
and  thus  secure  their  consent  to  a  marriage,  scorning 
to  take  her  an  unwilling  captive;  to  force  her  into 
an  alliance  she  would  abhor,  a  sin  of  which  certain 
other  captains  he  could  name  had  been  guilty.  How- 
ever, the  maid  could  not  be  found  and  he  bothered 
his  brain  with  a  thousand  conjectures. 

That  very  day  a  puzzling  circumstance  had  oc- 
curred. While  searching  for  the  fugitive  lad,  Isaac 
had  caught  the  flutter  of  a  garment  and  followed  it 
straight  to  its  hiding  place.  He  had  not  found  the 
boy,  but  this  woman  had  knelt  before  him,  clasping 
her  hands — wondrously  pretty  hands,  he  had  no- 
ticed— and  in  a  voice  remarkably  soft  and  sweet  had 
besought  him  to  leave  her.  He  had  hesitated,  and 
then  Chivalry  had  gone  out  to  succor  Distress. 
Planting  himself  in  front  of  her  retreat  until  the 
last  of  his  men  had  passed,  he  had  followed  them 
without  one  backward  glance. 

Thinking  about  it  now,  a  doubt  of  Lemuel's  tale 
came  to  his  mind  for  the  first  time.  The  veil  might 
be  explained  away,  but  not  that  refinement  of  voice, 
not — a  movement  by  the  fire  attracted  his  attention. 
He  stared  incredulously,  for  there,  hovering  over 
the  blaze,  was  the  girl  of  his  dreams.  It  could  be 


JOURNEYING  59 

no  other  than  the  face  he  had  carried  in  his  memory 
all  these  months.  Stranger  even  than  the  apparition, 
she  had  been  the  veiled  woman,  for  the  garment's 
tatters  were  even  now  drawn  tightly  about  her  shiv- 
ering form.  Behind  the  girl  somebody  appeared 
and  clutched  her  by  the  arm.  It  was  a  boy — the  boy 
— but  Isaac  did  not  move,  Nathan's  alarm  exhibited 
itself  in  his  voice. 

"I  awoke  and  missed  thee.  Rachel,  knowest  thou 
not  that  whosoever  hath  kindled  this  fire  is  not  far 
off?"  He  scanned  the  darkness  anxiously,  but  the 
outlines  of  the  tent  were  not  visible  where  it  lay, 
outside  the  pale  of  the  firelight.  "Come,  Rachel. 
Hast  thou  no  fear?" 

Her  tones  were  the  same  low,  musical  ones  he  had 
heard  that  day :  "I  was  so  cold,  Nathan,  so  cold.  I 
watched  a  long  time  and  saw  no  one,  the  soldiers 
from  whom  we  escaped  being  some  distance  away 
as  thou  knowest,  and  I  became  persuaded  that  if 
any  but  an  angel  had  built  this  fire  it  could  be  none 
other  than  a  friend.  Even  now  I  feel  it  so." 

Nevertheless,  the  boy's  entreaties  were  not  to  be 
denied  and  after  a  time  she  allowed  herself  to  be 
led  away  to  their  place  of  concealment.  Isaac  noted 
its  direction.  He  was  sick  at  heart.  To  think  he 
had  had  the  opportunity  he  craved  and  had  not 
known  it.  He  could  have  saved  her  these  hardships 
and  had  not  done  so.  And  then  a  savage  joy  pos- 
sessed him.  She  was  his  beyond  all  power  of  inter- 


60  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

ference.  He  knew  her  hiding  place,  but  he  would 
be  careful  not  to  frighten  her  by  any  vehemence  of 
word  or  action.  He  would  treat  her  gently,  as  was 
due  the  maiden  who  would  be  acceptable  in  the  great 
house  he  called  "home."  He  would  first  provide 
for  her  comfort  and  teach  her  to  trust  him,  then, 
when  he  offered  her  honorable  marriage,  she  would 
accept  gladly,  gratefully.  It  was  all  so  simple.  Per- 
haps it  had  been  best,  after  all,  that  things  had 
turned  out  this  way  instead  of — 

A  little  hand  was  suddenly  slipped  into  his  and  a 
little  voice  cried  excitedly :  "I  saw  them  by  the  fire : 
Rachel,  the  maid  to  whom  my  brother  Benjamin  is 
betrothed,  and  Nathan.  Was  it  not  nice  she  had 
her  wedding  veil  to  cover  herself  before  all  these 
strange,  rough  men?  But  Benjamin  keepeth  my 
father's  flock  out  on  the  hills  of  Israel  and  knoweth 
not  how  it  fareth  with  Rachel.  Wilt  thou  send  him 
word?" 

The  soldier  was  stunned.  He  gazed  at  Miriam 
stupidly  for  a  moment,  for  several  moments.  At 
last  he  seized  her  face  between  his  hands  and  held 
it  where  the  firelight  shone  full  upon  it.  "Thy  name, 
little  maid,"  he  commanded,  sharply. 

"Miriam,  daughter  of  Caleb." 

He  fell  back  a  pace,  repeating  the  words  as  if  to 
recall  memories :  "Miriam,  daughter  of  Caleb  .  .  . 
thy  brother  keeping  his  father's  flock  on  the  hills  of 
Israel.  .  .  .  Benjamin,  sayest  thou?  .  .  .  Thy  vil- 


JOURNEYING  61 

lage  Hannathon,  whose  outgoing  is  the  Valley  of 
Jiptha-el.  .  .  .  Benjamin!  Ah,  strangely  familiar 
hath  thy  appearance  been  to  me.  I  wondered  whom 
thou  didst  remind  me  of.  And  now  that  I  recall  it, 
not  only  have  I  heard  thy  name  but  I  have  seen  thee. 
Thou  wert  the  little  maid  with  Rachel  in  the  gorge, 
and  there  was  a  lad  older  than  Nathan.  'Eli,'  his 
brother,  sayest  thou?  And  I  have  taken  captive 
Benjamin's  sister !  Would  that  I  had  known  it  six 
days  ago!" 

He  resumed  his  old  position  near  the  door  of  the 
tent,  his  head  buried  in  his  hands.  "And  this  maiden, 
Rachel — Benjamin's  betrothed  ?  Nay,  it  cannot  be." 

But  Miriam  said  it  was ;  said  it  with  so  much  de- 
tail he  could  not  doubt ;  said  it  with  a  calm  matter- 
of-factness  that  was  torture  unspeakable  to  the  lis- 
tener, who  was  ill  with  disappointment;  rebellious 
at  the  thought  of  failure  in  that  which  he  had  re- 
solved; stubbornly  determined  to  admit  no  defeat 
as  long  as  there  was  one  ray  of  hope.  At  last,  find- 
ing him  quite  unresponsive,  Miriam  crept  away  to 
her  leopard's  skin  bed  and  sobbed  herself  to  sleep, 
not  knowing  that  he  was  so  young  and  inexperienced 
and  pain  so  new  and  strange  that  he  knew  not  how 
to  meet  it. 

That  night  he  fought  the  hardest  battle  of  his 
life,  a  battle  not  with  flesh  and  blood,  which  were 
easier  to  overcome,  but  with  his  own  undisciplined 
spirit,  and  in  the  gray  of  the  morning,  as  he  watched 


62  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

a  life  embark  on  the  Great  Unknown,  the  better 
part  of  him  won.  When  Miriam  awoke  he  greeted 
her  with  the  friendly  smile  she  had  come  to  expect. 
They  -would  be  on  the  march  very  soon,  he  said,  but 
before  they  started  perhaps  they  had  better  talk  over 
something  he  had  in  mind,  and  then  they  fell  to  plan- 
ning together  for  the  relief  of  the  wayfarers,  Rachel 
and  Nathan. 


CHAPTER  VI 
DAMASCUS 

THE  ninth  day,  shortly  after  noon,  Isaac's  com- 
pany neared  Damascus.  They  traveled  slowly,  car- 
rying the  dead  body  of  their  comrade,  but  not  too 
slowly  for  Miriam,  to  whom  grief  for  the  past  and 
uncertainty  as  to  the  future  loomed  larger  than  the 
delights  of  new  experiences.  They  paused  a  mo- 
ment on  the  heights  above  and  looked  down  upon  the 
city. 

Isaac  pointed  with  pride :  "Seest  thou,  little  maid, 
that  the  buildings,  crowded  so  closely  together  and 
all  covered  with  gray  plaster,  make  Damascus  look 
like  a  pearl.  It  is  a  pearl  set  in  emeralds,  for  it 
lieth  in  the  midst  of  fragrant  gardens  and  shady 
orchards  which  entirely  surround  it,  and  in  which 
thou  mayest  travel  for  hours  on  hours  before  reach- 
ing the  desert.  All  this  is  wrought  by  our  two  good 
friends,  the  River  Abana  and  the  River  Pharpar, 
which  hath  made  Damascus  possible.  Without 
them  this  would  be  but  desert  sands.  The  Pharpar 
flows  through  the  plains  to  the  south  of  us,  but  the 
Abana,  like  a  faithful  servant  to  her  mistress,  the 
Queen  of  Cities,  washes  off  the  dust  of  her  feet. 
Every  street  and  every  dwelling  hath  its  marble  f  oun- 

63 


64  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

tain  supplied  by  the  Abaria's  cold  and  sparkling 
waters.  Freely  doth  it  flow  for  rich  and  poor  alike. 
Thou  shalt  see  its  wonders  and  its  beauty." 

He  touched  his  horse  and  they  moved  on,  leaving 
the  exhilarating  air  of  the  hills,  traversing  roads 
which  lay  between  fascinating  vistas  of  garden  and 
orchard,  such  as  he  had  described,  and  finally  enter- 
ing the  great,  crowded  gate.  To  Miriam  the  city 
presented  more  perils  than  the  wilderness.  The  bus- 
tle of  the  streets  appeared  like  confusion ;  the  gayly 
colored  garments  everywhere  looked  odd,  even  fan- 
tastic, while  the  cries  of  the  merchandise  vendors 
and  the  constant  din  of  conversation  in  many  voices 
and  many  languages  were  bewildering.  She  drew 
closer  to  the  young  captain,  imploring,  fearful. 

He  smiled  reassuringly.  "We  stop  here,  nay,  not 
to  dismount  but  only  to  leave  the  men.  This  is  the 
'barracks'  where  I  live  when  I  am  not  at  home,  but 
thou  and  I  go  further." 

She  grew  faint  with  apprehension.  Was  she  now 
to  be  sold  as  a  slave?  But  what  else  could  one  ex- 
pect in  this  terrible  heathen  city? 

They  were  taking  the  "farther  ride"  of  which  he 
had  spoken.  "Seest  thou  this  splendid  temple,  little 
maid?  Notice  its  magnificence  and  its  vast  size. 
It  is  the  House  of  Rimmon,  the  sun-god  of  the 
Syrians.  Nay,  not  my  god.  If  I  believe  at  all,  and 
sometimes  I  wonder  how  it  is  possible  to  know  which 
god  is  the  true  one  among  so  many,  it  is  Jehovah, 


DAMASCUS  65 

whom  I  was  taught  to  worship  even  as  thou,  my 
mother  being  a  captive  from  the  Land  of  Israel 
like  thee." 

He  had  not  meant  to  bring  that  pained  expression 
to  Miriam's  face.  All  at  once  he  noticed  how  small 
she  was  and  how  forlorn.  His  voice  became  sooth- 
ing. "I  am  taking  thee  to  the  house  where  she  went, 
where  she  grew  up  and  married  my  father,  who  was 
chief  steward  there  and  an  Egyptian.  I  was  born  in 
that  house  and  call  it  'home'  even  yet,  for  I  am  much 
with  my  master.  It  is  the  House  of  Naaman,  com- 
mander-in-chief  of  the  armies  of  Syria.  I  think 
thou  wilt  wait  upon  his  wife,  Adah.  My  sister, 
Milcah,  hath  a  position  of  authority  among  the  fe- 
male servants,  and  if  she  seemeth  to  thee  at  first 
somewhat  severe,  thou  must  remember  that  she  hath 
much  care,  so  much  that  her  heart  hath  great  ado 
to  show  itself.  But  peradventure"  (questioningly) 
"thou  wouldst  enjoy  a  Quest  for  the  Hidden  Heart  ?" 

Her  answer  was  prevented  by  their  arrival  at  the 
largest  abode  Miriam  had  ever  seen,  and  the  next 
hour  was  a  very  trying  one.  She  did  not  meet  the 
mistress  she  was  to  serve.  Instead,  she  was  taken 
straight  to  Milcah,  the  soldier's  sister,  the  Lady  of 
the  Hidden  Heart,  whose  welcome  was  critical  rather 
than  cordial.  After  a  little  while  Isaac  bade  her 
good-by  for  the  present,  holding  her  hand  tightly. 

"Thou  wilt  be  happy  here,  and  I  will  come  often 
to  see  how  thou  doest.  Thou  must  feel  free  to  tell 


66  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

me  everything,  just  as  thou  wouldst  talk  with  thy 
brother,  Benjamin." 

But  she  would  not  let  him  depart.  She  was  in  an 
agony  of  terror,  clinging  to  him  and  begging  him 
piteously  not  to  leave  her. 

He  was  perplexed  and  distressed.  Stooping,  he 
caressed  her ;  took  her  in  his  arms  and  attempted  to 
soothe  her  in  quite  a  big-brother  fashion;  told  her 
about  his  debt  to  Benjamin,  which  he  should  repay 
to  her;  reassured  her  about  the  kindness  of  those 
among  whom  he  had  brought  her ;  promised  to  come 
every  day ;  tried  to  divert  her  attention  to  the  foun- 
tain in  the  peaceful  courtyard  and  the  other  beauties 
around  them ;  sought  to  arouse  her  courage  and  in- 
spire hope.  After  a  time  she  became  calm  and  suf- 
fered him  to  leave,  but  before  going  he  had  a  few 
sharp  words  with  his  sister,  Milcah,  who  had  looked 
on  coldly,  impatiently,  at  these  proceedings. 

"As  if  I  had  naught  to  do  but  act  as  child's  nurse! 
Assuredly  she  will  be  well  treated.  Hath  anything 
else  ever  been  known  in  the  House  of  Naaman?" 

With  this  ungracious  promise  he  had  to  be  con- 
tent, but  never  before  had  he  taken  his  way  to  the 
barracks  with  such  a  heavy  heart.  He  paused  two 
or  three  times  and  looked  back,  as  if  debating 
whether  or  not  to  return,  but  finally  went  on.  Mean- 
while, with  expedition  and  no  waste  of  sympathy, 
Miriam  was  bathed,  under  Milcah' s  direction,  and 
dressed  in  garments  hastily  adapted  for  the  purpose 


DAMASCUS  67 

out  of  those  intended  for  a  much  larger  maid.  The 
rest  of  the  afternoon  time  dragged.  Miriam,  very 
forlorn  indeed,  was  yet  very  brave,  as  she  had  prom- 
ised Isaac  to  be.  She  expected  to  be  put  to  work  im- 
mediately, to  be  given  tasks  that  would  try  her 
strength  and  patience  to  the  utmost,  but,  apparently, 
there  was  nothing  for  her  to  do. 

Venturing  into  the  courtyard,  she  observed  that 
if  the  dwelling  looked  large  on  the  outside,  it  was 
immense  within  and  sheltered  a  household  so  numer- 
ous that  the  arrival  of  one  more  made  no  difference 
whatever.  Somewhat  later  she  had  her  supper,  a 
bounteous  meal  that  she  could  not  swallow  for  the 
lump  in  her  throat,  and  then  Milcah  sent  her  to  bed 
in  a  large  room  with  several  of  the  maid  servants. 
It  was  a  softer  bed  than  any  she  had  ever  known,  but 
not  one  of  ease.  She  lay  there  thinking,  thinking 
until  the  intolerable  pain  in  her  throat  was  at  last 
relieved  by  tears,  but  she  was  careful  to  smother  the 
sobs  lest  she  disturb  those  whose  regular  breathing 
told  her  they  were  asleep.  She  could  reach  out  her 
hand  and  touch  them,  they  were  so  near,  yet  she  was 
alone,  quite,  quite  alone!  No  one  cared  about  her 
except,  strangely  enough,  the  soldier  who  had 
brought  her  hither!  If  she  could  only  cuddle  down 
in  her  mother's  arms,  or  her  father's !  Oh,  the  sobs 
would  not  be  stifled !  What  if  the  Lady  of  the  Hid- 
den Heart  should  hear? 

As  if  in  answer  to  this  despairing  cry,  Milcah 


68  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

stood,  looking  down  upon  her.  "Exactly  what  I 
feared,"  she  commented,  "and  to-morrow  no  work 
will  be  done  because  the  sound  of  thy  weeping  to- 
night will  go  forth  to  disturb  the  household.  Thus 
is  mischief  wrought  by  a  brother's  thoughtlessness. 
Do  thou  come  into  the  room  with  me,  and  if  thou 
must  weep,  none  will  be  distressed,  for  much  care 
maketh  me  always  wakeful." 

Not  unkindly  though  entirely  without  tenderness, 
Miriam  was  assisted  to  make  the  change,  but  the 
fountain  of  tears  seemed  frozen.  For  the  rest  of 
the  night  she  lay  with  wide-open  eyes,  staring  but 
unseeing,  sick  to  the  very  soul.  Yet  did  she  not 
suffer  alone.  From  his  comparatively  hard  couch 
over  in  the  barracks,  Isaac  all  at  once  sprang  up, 
alert,  listening.  Noiselessly  he  crossed  the  room, 
opened  a  door,  and  stepped  out  into  the  starlight. 
Still  were  the  voices  of  traffic  and  people  which  had 
so  terrified  Miriam  that  day.  The  city  slumbered. 
He  looked  across  roof  after  roof  to  two  which 
towered  above  the  others,  ghostlike  in  the  whiteness 
of  their  plastered  exteriors.  One  was  the  palace, 
the  other  the  House  of  Naaman. 

A  long,  long  while  he  stood  there,  then  he  returned 
to  his  bed,  laughing  softly.  "I  grow  fanciful,"  he 
said  to  himself.  "I  dreamed  I  heard  the  sobbing  of 
the  little  maid.  As  if  I  could  at  this  distance,  or  as 
if  she  were  weeping  when  she  hath  doubtless  been 
asleep  these  many  hours!" 


DAMASCUS  69 

Yet  for  some  reason  the  soldier  slept  but  fitfully 
the  remainder  of  the  night.  Into  his  passive  brain 
swarmed  long- forgotten  tales  he  had  heard  at  his 
mother's  knee:  tales  of  her  captivity;  of  her  loneli- 
ness and  home-sickness ;  but  because  he  had  known 
her  only  in  days  of  contentment  and  prosperity,  they 
had  seemed  to  him  but  as  tales.  Now  he  under- 
stood. With  features  drawn  as  if  in  pain  he  groaned : 
"If  only,  ah,  if  only!" 

In  the  morning  he  went  home  very  early,  only  to 
find  that  the  little  maid  was  too  weak  and  ill  to  rise. 

His  sister  spoke  her  mind  without  reserve.  "I  am 
not  pleased,  Isaac,  that  thou  shouldst  have  brought 
this  child  hither.  She  will  be  much  trouble  and  little 
help.  We  can  do  nothing  now  except  endure  it, 
but  I  hope  thou  wilt  never  take  captive  another 
maid." 

He  promised  fervently,  and  Milcah  surveyed  his 
retreating  form  with  great  satisfaction.  "When  I 
talk  to  Isaac,"  she  told  herself,  "always  can  I  cause 
him  to  see  the  right,  and  no  other  woman  hath  such 
influence  with  him — so  far." 

It  was  truly  a  wonderful  house  to  which  Miriam 
had  come.  In  the  first  place  it  had  no  front  door. 
The  outside  was  just  a  blank  wall  of  gray  plaster 
with  a  few  small  openings,  very  high  up,  and  instead 
of  a  door  there  was  a  gate :  a  large,  highly  orna- 
mented, metal  gate  at  which  a  keeper  always  stood. 


70  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

From  this  you  will  understand  that  none  of  the 
rooms  looked  out  upon  the  street  save  through  those 
little,  latticed  openings  above  everybody's  heads,  the 
real  doors  and  windows  being  on  the  other  side  (the 
inside),  where  they  opened  upon  a  wide  veranda 
and  then  upon  a  square  courtyard.  You  could  stand 
in  one  doorway,  for  example,  and  see  rows  and 
rows  of  rooms  facing  the  four  sides  of  this  court- 
yard but  not  opening  into  each  other. 

You  might  think  you  would  miss  seeing  the  street, 
but  how  could  you  when  the  courtyard  had  its  foun- 
tain and  grass  and  flowers  and  trees  and  even  birds  ? 
All  of  the  courtyards  were  pretty  and  peaceful,  even 
that  where  the  animals  were  kept,  the  word  "all" 
being  used  advisedly,  for  while  most  houses  had  one 
court  or  two  or  three  at  most,  this  one  had  seven. 
You  would  get  lost  trying  to  find  your  way  about. 
The  rooms  were  large  and  high,  and  so  clean  and 
well  furnished !  On  three  sides  were  low  and  wide 
benches,  where  you  sat  in  the  daytime  and  slept 
at  night  on  the  soft  cushions  and  thick  mattresses 
which  were  never  put  away.  There  was  nothing  else 
in  these  apartments,  but,  of  course,  there  was 
nothing  else  to  want  except  the  queer  little  pans 
containing  lighted  wood  or  charcoal  which  would 
be  brought  in  when  it  was  cold. 

The  portion  of  the  building  set  aside  for  the  use 
of  the  master  and  mistress  and  their  guests  had  not 
more  but  only  more  elegant  furniture.  Here  the 


DAMASCUS  71 

courtyard  was  paved  with  marble  and  inside  the 
apartments  the  low  and  wide  benches  were  made  of 
carved  cedar  inlaid  with  ivory  and  mother-of-pearl 
and  tortoise-shell  in  intricate  designs.  Here  the 
cushions  were  covered  with  beautifully  colored  silks, 
the  mattresses  with  heavier  material,  and  there  were 
curtains  of  silk  and  linen  and  rugs  spread  down  to 
walk  upon.  Miriam,  surveying  this  magnificence 
surreptitiously,  decided  that  while  it  was  quite  right 
and  proper  in  such  a  place  and  for  such  a  purpose, 
it  was  entirely  unnecessary  for  the  rest  of  the  house- 
hold. With  the  rooms  and  verandas  all  floored  and 
kept  so  clean,  who  would  need  carpets?  And  there 
were  almost  no  ants  or  mice !  As  for  cushions,  silk 
would  not  wear  nearly  so  long,  she  was  sure,  as  the 
sheep-skin  and  goat-skin  stuffed  with  wool  which 
were  so  plentiful  in  the  other  apartments.  The  mas- 
ter, Naaman,  must  be  very  rich  to  maintain  such  a 
splendid  dwelling.  It  was  awe-inspiring  just  to  con- 
template its  glories. 

Out  of  doors  it  was  even  more  interesting.  You 
could  go  up  a  stone  staircase  in  the  corner  of  one  of 
the  courts  and  come  out  on  the  roof.  You  need  not 
be  afraid.  There  was  no  danger.  It  was  only  one 
story  high — although  that  was  very  high  indeed — 
and  the  roof  was  flat.  Besides,  the  wall  built  around 
the  edge  would  keep  you  from  falling.  You  could 
see  so  much  and  so  far !  You  could  look  down  into 
the  narrow  and  crowded  streets  of  Damascus  itself, 


72  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

where  brilliantly  garbed  throngs  were  constantly 
coming  and  going  on  interminable  errands,  and  be- 
yond that  to  miles  of  verdure  and  swamp  land  and 
several  swift,  silvery  streams,  offshoots  of  the  Phar- 
par  and  the  Abana,  and  beyond  that  still  to  the  long, 
low-lying  bluish-purple  hills  and  the  dun-colored 
desert.  It  would  be  just  according  to  your  mood 
whether  or  not  your  gaze  returned  to  Damascus  and 
fastened  itself  upon  the  one  other  building  more 
pretentious  than  this :  the  palace  where  dwelt  King 
Ben-hadad  and  his  court,  and  then  wandered  off  to 
the  three  great  gates  of  Damascus,  through  which 
many  entered  and  some  never  returned. 

There  were  numerous  people  in  the  household  of 
Naaman,  almost  as  many,  she  was  sure,  as  lived  in 
a  whole  "city"  in  Israel,  so  it  was  not  strange  they 
should  have  different  languages.  How  very  dis- 
similar each  individual  was  from  the  other!  Odd 
that  we  should  all  have  eyes  and  ears  and  noses  and 
mouths  and  hair  and  yet  no  two  look  alike!  The 
only  person  of  the  entire  household  whose  ways  and 
speech  were  the  least  familiar  was  Milcah,  sister  to 
the  young  soldier  who  had  brought  her  hither,  and 
Milcah  was  much,  much  older  than  her  brother  and 
much,  much  harder  to  please. 

Isaac's  daily  visits  and  trifling  gifts  of  fruit  or 
flowers,  at  first  received  listlessly,  gradually  acquired 
greater  value  in  Miriam's  eyes  until  they  were  the 
only  bright  spots  on  an  otherwise  monotonous  ho- 


DAMASCUS  73 

rizon.  The  marvels  of  her  new  home  had  no  charms 
for  her  at  first.  They  dawned  upon  her  gradually  as, 
day  after  day,  with  wan  face  and  lagging  footsteps, 
and  in  response  to  Isaac's  encouragement,  she 
roamed  through  the  big  house,  smiling  wistfully 
upon  those  who  were  often  too  busy  to  smile  in  re- 
sponse. She  was  not  resentful.  The  hurt  came  in 
the  fact  that  they  were  absorbed  in  their  own  affairs, 
in  which  she  had  no  part.  And  in  Hannathon  she 
had  been  so  necessary! 


CHAPTER  VII 
WAYFARERS 

THE  western  or  southwestern  gate  of  Damascus, 
that  which  looked  toward  Israel  and  Egypt,  had  seen 
much  coming  and  going  of  late.  Varied  features 
and  varied  dispositions,  people  large  and  small,  old 
and  young,  bond  and  free,  soldiers  and  civilians, 
on  all  manner  of  business  and  pleasure  they  had 
passed,  but  never  a  couple  more  likely  to  attract  at- 
tention than  the  maiden  and  the  boy  who  now  ap- 
proached. There  was  something  inexpressibly  gen- 
tle and  refined  in  her  appearance  which  contrasted 
oddly  with  her  tattered  garments  and  the  leopard's 
skin  drawn  closely  around  her.  The  boy  seemed 
more  fitted  for  the  wilderness  and  the  hardships 
they  had  evidently  endured. 

They  were  talking  low  and  eagerly.  "Thinkest 
thou,  Rachel,"  with  a  touch  of  scorn,  "that  the  Lord 
would  send  an  angel  in  these  times  and  to  us  as  he 
did  to  our  fathers?" 

She  was  sweetly  reasonable.  "Then  how  dost 
thou  explain  the  fire  with  no  one  near  it  the  night 
when  I  thought  I  should  die  with  the  cold ;  and  this 
leopard's  skin  we  found  next  morning  near  the  em- 
bers; and  the  food — so  much  we  have  had  enough 

74 


WAYFARERS  75 

and  to  spare;  and  the  water-skin  filled  with  life- 
giving  water  for  which  we  thirsted ;  and  even  these 
strips  of  cloth  to  bind  up  our  bleeding  feet,  cut  on 
the  sharp  rocks,  bruised  on  the  rough  road?  Nay, 
no  matter  what  thou  sayest,  Nathan,  I  have  learned 
that  Jehovah  is  merciful  and  gracious,  full  of  loving- 
kindness  and  tender  mercies  with  which  we  have 
been  surrounded.  Indeed,  now  that  our  perils  are 
nearly  over,  I  feel  that  all  I  have  gone  through  hath 
been  but  a  spiritual  experience.  The  Lord  hath 
been  my  strength,  just  as  Miriam  told  me,  and  he 
is  about  to  become  my  song.  Soon  we  shall  reach 
the  home  of  my  kinsman,  Ezekiel,  where  we  shall 
not  only  be  safe  and  well  cared  for  ourselves,  but 
he  will  know  what  to  do  concerning  Miriam." 

"Look  out,  Rachel!"  Nathan  was  glaring  after 
a  man  with  a  heavy  load  who  had  stumbled  against 
them.  "A  good  thing  it  is  that  the  road  is  straight 
and  smooth.  Keep  thou  close  to  me  and  watch  thy 
steps." 

They  had  need  to.  As  they  proceeded  the  travel 
increased.  They  were  jostled;  they  jumped  quickly 
out  of  the  way  of  those  who  rode,  only  to  be  pushed 
in  another  direction  by  those  who  walked;  they  met 
frowns  and  ill-natured  remarks  and,  what  was 
harder  to  bear,  smiles  and  unmistakable  jests.  They 
had  about  concluded  that  Might  rather  than  Right 
was  the  rule  of  the  highway  when  their  opinion  was 
confirmed.  As  they  came  within  the  shadow  of  the 


76  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

city  gates,  but  before  they  could  enter,  they  were 
espied  by  a  gay  party,  looking  for  sport. 

By  the  very  simple  device  of  joining  hands,  a  cir- 
cle was  formed  around  the  two  unfortunates  and 
they  were  thus  entirely  at  the  will  of  their  tor- 
mentors. Nathan's  rage  and  Rachel's  entreaties 
merely  added  to  the  amusement.  The  circle  ad- 
vanced and  retreated,  dragging  its  victims  along  with 
it.  They  were  mimicked  with  exaggerated  panto- 
mime. They  were  forced  into  ridiculous  and  un- 
dignified postures.  One,  bolder  or  more  facetious 
than  the  rest,  indulged  in  hair-pulling  and  pinching. 

The  roars  of  laughter  attracted  the  attention  of 
passers-by,  who  joined  the  gathering,  some  to  jeer 
and  encourage,  others  to  inquire  and  protest.  The 
crowd  grew,  the  noise  increased,  the  road  was  ob- 
structed and,  trying  to  force  a  passage,  many  came 
to  angry  arguments  and  finally  to  blows.  The  ex- 
citement was  quelled  only  by  the  arrival  of  soldiers, 
who  finally  hurried  to  the  scene  and  in  no  gentle 
manner  dispersed  the  mob.  To  Rachel,  bruised  and 
humiliated,  this  was  a  welcome  relief.  She  did  not 
notice  the  curious  gaze  of  the  soldiers,  the  changing 
expression  on  the  face  of  one,  nor  that  another 
looked  at  her  intently  for  a  moment,  then,  urging  his 
horse  to  full  speed,  set  off  in  the  direction  of  the 
House  of  Naaman. 

Nathan,  with  wits  sharpened  by  terror,  lost  none 
of  these  things  nor  a  host  of  others,  and  hastily 


WAYFARERS  77 

came  to  the  conclusion  that  their  deliverance  was 
cause  only  for  additional  fear.  He  clutched  Ra- 
chel's hand :  "We  must  go  back  as  we  came.  Hear- 
est  thou  ?  We  cannot  go  into  the  city  to-day.  Dost 
thou  not  see  that  these  are  the  soldiers  from  whom 
we  escaped?  They  will  know  me  and  guess  whom 
thou  art,  even  without  thy  veil." 

He  was  violently  pulling  backward ;  the  crowd,  so 
long  detained  and  anxious  to  make  up  for  lost  time, 
surging  forward.  As  well  try  to  stem  the  Jordan 
with  bare  hands!  They  were  swept  apart,  and  be- 
fore Rachel  realized  it,  she  stood  within  the  portals 
of  Damascus,  dismayed  and  alone.  With  Miriam 
in  captivity  and  Nathan  lost,  it  was  more  than  ever 
imperative  that  she  find  Ezekiel  and  that  without 
delay,  but  how?  She  stood  at  one  side  of  the  busy 
footway,  anxiously  waiting  to  see  if  Nathan  would 
join  her.  When  he  did  not  and  she  found  herself 
again  attracting  attention,  she  singled  out  one  in 
the  hurrying  throng  and  appealed  to  him  timidly: 
"Canst  thou  direct  me  to  the  House  of  Ezekiel  in 
the  street  of  the  merchants  of  Israel?" 

The  man  looked  at  her,  shook  his  head,  and  an- 
swered in  a  language  she  did  not  understand. 
Others  she  tried,  but  with  no  better  success.  They 
were  not  unkind,  merely  uncomprehending — and  in- 
different. Peradventure  if  she  walked  along  slowly, 
constantly  seeking,  constantly  asking,  she  might — 
she  must — somewhere  discover  one  of  her  own 


78  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

people,  or  at  least  one  whose  speech  was  the  same 
as  her  own.  Already  the  sun  was  casting  long 
shadows  and  with  a  sinking  heart  Rachel  proceeded 
on  her  way,  never  seeing  a  soldier  who  followed  her 
cautiously  and  at  a  safe  distance.  He  also  watched 
the  sun.  At  last  he  approached  near  enough  to  hear 
her  question,  put  now  not  so  much  with  timidity  as 
with  desperation.  He  addressed  her  in  her  own 
tongue :  "I  know  the  man  thou  seekest.  Thou  hast 
but  to  come  with  me." 

Although  his  pronunciation  was  distinctly  bad, 
she  turned  with  pleasure  at  the  words,  but  at  sight 
of  the  speaker  she  shrank  back,  shivering. 

"Thoughtest  thou  to  escape?"  He  was  regard- 
ing her  with  a  kind  of  cruel  exultation.  "I  have 
found  thee  again  as  I  swore  I  would,  and  now — " 

His  hand  rested  compellingly  upon  her  shoulder. 
The  girl  pleaded  tremulously:  "Is  it  not  enough 
that  thou  shouldst  have  taken  me  captive  in  Israel  ? 
Yet  did  the  God  of  my  fathers  preserve  me  then 
and  later  on  the  road  hither.  I  shall  believe  that  here 
in  Damascus  I  shall  fare  no  worse.  Thy  name,  I 
know,  is  Lemuel,  and  there  must  be  some  law,  some 
protection  for  the  innocent — " 

Despite  the  bravery  of  the  words  her  voice  fal- 
tered. She  was  weary  and  heartsick.  Had  she  en- 
dured so  much  only  to  fall  into  danger  at  every 
step?  Her  captor  had  drawn  her  within  an  alley- 
way and  in  the  fast  gathering  dusk  the  hurrying 


WAYFARERS  79 

pedestrians  neither  saw  nor  heard  aught  amiss.  He 
spoke  in  a  tone  of  easy  confidence,  secure  in  posses- 
sion, but  Rachel  heeded  not.  She  was  planning 
escape,  yet  weighed  down  by  a  sense  of  her  own 
helplessness.  With  a  grip  on  her  arm  which  made 
her  wince  with  pain,  she  felt  herself  hurried  along 
to  an  unknown  destination. 

Emerging  upon  a  less  frequented  thoroughfare, 
they  unexpectedly  encountered  two  men  on  horse- 
back, riding  slowly  and  straining  their  eyes  into 
the  night  as  if  in  search  of  something  or  somebody. 
The  man  at  Rachel's  side  glanced  carelessly;  again 
more  intently  and  with  a  muttered  exclamation  par- 
tially relaxed  his  hold.  That  instant's  indecision 
lost  him  his  prey.  With  a  strength  at  which  she 
wondered  Rachel  tore  herself  out  of  his  grasp  and 
fled,  whither  she  knew  not.  A  few  moments  had 
sufficed  to  change  her  into  a  fugitive,  afraid  of  peo- 
ple, afraid  of  the  torches  which  the  few  travelers 
still  abroad  were  compelled  to  carry.  She  sought 
only  some  dark  corner  in  which  to  stand  panting  and 
then,  afraid  lest  even  its  kindly  shelter  be  sinister,  to 
hurry  to  another. 

It  was  in  the  intense  darkness  and  stillness  which 
precedes  the  dawn  that  the  girl,  utterly  exhausted, 
crouched  in  the  shadow  thrown  by  a  large  dwelling 
and  fell  into  a  deep  sleep.  When  the  world  turned 
gray  two  men  on  horseback  extinguished  their 
torches  and  approached  the  entrance  to  this  abode. 


8o  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

The  face  of  one  was  ashy  with  fatigue  and  disap- 
pointment. Observing  the  huddled  figure  he  bent 
over  it  and  uttered  a  joyful  exclamation,  beckoning 
for  the  other. 

"Our  search  is  ended.  While  we  roamed  abroad 
by  night,  she  whom  we  sought  found  her  way  alone 
to  protection.  Quickly,  bring  food  and  water  and 
borrow  a  cloak  from  one  of  the  maid  servants,  while 
I  remain  here  to  guard  the  maiden." 

The  voices  awakened  the  sleeper.  Startled  and 
confused,  Rachel  found  herself  gazing  into  the  face 
of  the  very  young  captain  who  had  commanded 
the  little  company  of  soldiers  under  whose  escort 
she  had  been  brought  from  Israel.  She  recalled  to 
mind  the  respect  with  which  he  had  seen  to  it  she 
was  treated ;  his  courtesy  the  day  he  had  discovered 
her  hiding  place,  yet  fear  made  her  suspicious.  She 
would  have  fled  once  more,  but  before  she  could  rise 
she  noticed  the  compassion  in  his  look,  the  deference 
in  his  manner.  His  reassuring  words  were  spoken 
in  her  own  tongue  and  as  though  it  were  native  to 
him. 

The  incident  at  the  gate,  he  said,  and  Rachel  re- 
called her  experience  with  a  shudder,  had  attracted 
the  attention  of  his  servant,  who  had  brought  him 
word.  Together  they  had  sought  her  through  the 
streets  of  the  city  throughout  the  night,  hoping  to 
aid  her,  to  give  her  a  better  impression  of  Damascus 
than  she  had  evidently  formed.  As  they  had  re- 


WAYFARERS  81 

turned,  almost  persuaded  that  she  must  have  found 
friends  with  whom  she  was  sheltered,  they  had  dis- 
covered her  asleep,  at  the  portal  of  the  House 
of  Naaman,  of  whom  she  had  doubtless  heard  and 
who  was  as  good  as  he  was  great.  The  servant 
had  now  gone  for  some  refreshment.  When  she 
had  partaken  and  her  strength  was  somewhat  re- 
stored, she  would  permit  him,  he  hoped,  to  assist  her 
to  make  plans  for  the  future. 

All  at  once  the  nerve-tension  relaxed  and  Rachel 
found  herself  strangely  weak  and  trembling.  She 
answered  with  puzzled  relief :  "Thou  dost  not  look 
altogether  like  my  people,  but  thou  speakest  as  one. 
Canst  thou  direct  me  to  the  House  of  Ezekiel,  in  the 
street  of  the  merchants  of  Israel?  He  is  my  kins- 
man." 

The  anxious  expression  left  the  young  man's  face. 
"Yea,"  he  said,  "as  soon  as  thou  hast  eaten  and 
drunken — and  here  cometh  my  servant — thou  wilt 
find  that  I  am  the  way.  Behold,  I  go  before  thee. 
Follow  thou  me." 

An  hour  later  Rachel,  guided  by  the  soldier,  ar- 
rived at  the  street  and  the  dwelling  she  had  so  greatly 
desired  to  find,  but  disappointment  awaited  her. 
"Ezekiel?  Yea,  he  was  here,"  she  was  told,  "but 
a  month  ago  he  died  and  only  yesterday  his  family 
started  back  to  Israel." 

Rachel  was  not  Isaac's  only  problem.    There  was 


82 

Miriam.  That  she  was  related  to  the  shepherd  who 
had  nursed  him  with  tender  care  through  a  long  ill- 
ness meant,  to  the  young  man,  that  he  should  see  to 
her  welfare;  that  the  gift  he  had  brought  his  mas- 
ter's wife  from  the  enemy's  country  should  be  un- 
appreciated, that  the  child  was  unwanted  and  un- 
welcome, stirred  him  to  profound  indignation;  and 
that  she  grieved  for  the  home  and  loved  ones  from 
which  he  had  ruthlessly  taken  her  roused  his  deepest 
pity. 

In  compensation  he  gave  her  the  best  of  himself 
— his  leisure  moments,  his  most  unselfish  thought. 
All  at  once  he  became  critical  of  his  own  motives  and 
those  of  others.  Miriam  had  such  an  uncomfortable 
way  of  looking  him  straight  in  the  eye  and  inno- 
cently inquiring,  "Thinkest  thou  Jehovah  would  be 
pleased?"  He  had  never  thought  before  nor  cared. 
"Jehovah"  was  a  name  his  mother  reverenced  and 
to  which  his  sister  was  not  indifferent,  but  it  had 
meant  nothing  in  particular  to  him.  Now,  however, 
with  the  obligation  of  answering  the  frank  ques- 
tions of  this  small  maiden,  who  seemed  to  believe 
him  the  embodiment  of  wisdom,  he  began  to  observe 
and  compare  conduct,  to  ask  himself  what  was  worth 
while  and  why.  As  the  weeks  and  months  went  by, 
such  considerations  could  not  fail  to  react  upon  his 
own  ideals  nor  remain  unnoticed  by  others. 

In  his  wife's  apartments  lingered  Naaman, 
soldier-statesman  of  Syria.  "What  thinkest  thou, 


WAYFARERS  83 

Adah,  of  the  little  maid  who  is  of  the  Land  of  Is- 
rael?" 

His  wife  toyed  with  a  silken  tassel.  "I  know  not 
indeed,  having  seen  her  but  a  time  or  two  and  that 
from  a  distance." 

"Then  thou  dost  not  care  for  the  present  Isaac 
brought  thee,  with  such  elation,  from  afar?"  Some- 
thing there  was  in  the  cool  displeasure  of  the  tone 
which  caused  the  lady  suddenly  to  remember  that 
Isaac's  parents  had  served  her  husband's  family; 
that  Isaac's  mother  had  been  Naaman's  nurse;  and 
that  Isaac  himself  had  been  born  in  that  very 
house. 

She  hastened  to  her  own  defense.  "The  maid  of 
whom  thou  speakest  hath  been  so  woe-begone  I  felt 
I  owed  it  to  myself  not  to  be  troubled  by  her  sad- 
ness. Milcah  hath  borne  tidings  of  her  and  I  was 
not  attracted." 

His  reply  was  dictated  by  long  observation  and 
much  worldly  knowledge.  "Milcah  taketh  precau- 
tions lest  she  be  supplanted  later.  Fear  hath  eyes 
of  its  own  and  its  vision  is  oft  distorted.  Thou  wilt 
be  wise,  I  think,  to  judge  of  the  little  maid  for  thy- 
self. It  hath  been  my  experience  that  where  there 
is  a  drop  of  Israelitish  blood,  there  is  trustworthi- 
ness. Oft  have  I  wondered  if  their  religion  had 
aught  to  do  with  it.  Look  thou  at  Isaac.  Because 
he  understandeth  the  tongue  of  Israel,  I  sent  him 
with  Lemuel,  kinsman  of  thy  friend,  to  spy  out  the 


84  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

land  to  the  south  of  us.  Of  the  two,  Isaac  brought 
back  the  more  detailed  and  reliable  information." 

Adah  was  glad  to  turn  the  conversation  into  this 
new  channel.  "Was  it  for  this  thou  didst  reward 
him  with  the  captaincy  of  a  small  band  ?  My  friends 
were  somewhat  displeased,  hoping  no  doubt  for  such 
preferment  for  Lemuel." 

The  man  frowned.  "Should  I  not  reward  justly? 
Isaac  is  young,  thou  sayest?  Ah,  but  age  is  not  a 
matter  of  birthdays.  He  joyeth  in  responsibility." 
The  speaker  smiled.  "Hast  thou  not  observed  his 
care  over  the  little  maid?" 

Later  and  alone,  Adah,  wife  of  Naaman,  sat 
wrapped  in  reflection.  It  were  undoubtedly  right 
and  politic  to  please  one's  husband.  His  judgment 
concerning  the  little  maid  should  be  respected.  He 
was  impulsive  but  astute.  Of  course,  when  properly 
trained,  even  a  tiny  maid  would  be  useful,  but  oh, 
the  tediousness,  the  annoyance  of  the  training!  She 
would  be  awkward  and  heedless.  Nay,  for  the 
present  at  least  it  would  be  best  to  wait. 


CHAPTER  VIII 
DOUBTS 

ALMOST  six  months  passed.  In  the  House  of 
Amos,  friend  of  that  Ezekiel  who  had  died,  sat  Ra- 
chel, the  scalding  tears  dropping  from  between  her 
fingers.  She  was  not  unmindful  that  Rebekah,  wife 
of  Amos,  was  holding  a  guarded  conversation  out 
in  the  courtyard  with  her  bosom  friend  and  that  it 
concerned  her. 

"I  think  her  trouble  hath  affected  her  mind," 
the  neighbor  was  saying.  "When  thou  wert  gone 
to  the  Street  of  the  Bakers  I  peeped  in  at  the  door 
and  she  was  laughing  and  crying  over  a  bracelet 
made  of  dried  grasses  which  was  hung  around  her 
neck.  She  would  have  hidden  it  when  I  appeared, 
but  when  I  insisted  upon  knowing  its  history  she 
said  it  had  been  given  her  by  the  young  shepherd 
to  whom  she  is  betrothed.  They  were  children  then 
and  played  at  a  wedding  and  she  kept  the  foolish 
token.  It  is  the  nearest  she  will  ever  come  to  a 
marriage,  poor  child,  and  I  told  her  so." 

Rebekah  nodded. 

"Thou  knowest,"  the  other  woman  continued, 
"that  the  soldier  who  brought  her  hither  cometh 
not  at  all  since  the  first  day  or  two,  when  he  came  to 

85 


86  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

inquire  how  she  fared.  Then  he  did  not  ask  to 
see  her,  nor  even  when  he  brought  thee  the  gold 
wherewith  to  purchase  her  new  clothing.  Didst 
thou  not  think  it  strange  that  he  wished  her  to  think 
the  gift  came  from  Amos  and  thee?  To  my  mind 
it  is  plain  that  he  desireth  to  be  rid  of  the  maiden. 
Peradventure  he  is  relieved  to  place  the  responsi- 
bility with  thee." 

Under  this  positive  indictment  Rebekah's  double 
chin  quivered.  "All  we  know  of  her,"  she  agreed, 
"is  that  some  six  months  ago  she  came  somewhat 
after  dawn,  which  hath  seemed  very  odd  to  me,  with 
a  young  soldier,  evidently  an  officer,  seeking  Ezekiel, 
and  that  Amos,  in  pity  for  her  distress,  took  her  into 
our  home  until  we  could  find  out  something  about 
her.  Yet,  beyond  the  tale  she  telleth,  we  know  no 
more  than  at  first.  Gentle  she  is  and  sweet  and  if 
what  she  saith  be  true — " 

Rebekah's  friend  regarded  her  severely.  "The 
minute  I  saw  her  with  the  soldier  I  knew  that  no 
good  would  come  of  it.  Thou  didst  say  the  same 
and  her  story  goeth  but  to  prove — " 

The  voices  sunk  lower.  Rachel  could  catch  the 
import  but  not  the  words.  However,  she  had  heard 
enough.  They  doubted  her  account  of  herself  and 
she  had  no  way  whereby  to  prove  it.  She  might,  of 
course,  make  an  attempt  to  find  the  soldier  who  had 
been  so  kind.  His  name  was  "Isaac"  and  he  had 
spoken  of  the  great  House  of  Naaman  as  "home," 


DOUBTS  87 

but  she  hesitated  to  throw  herself  upon  the  mercy 
of  any  man.  The  bitterness  of  being  allowed  a 
shelter  on  a  sufferance  which  might  terminate  at 
any  time!  Where  was  she  to  go?  What  to  do? 
And  not  for  herself  alone  was  she  anxious.  What 
had  become  of  Nathan?  How  fared  it  with  poor 
little  Miriam? 

In  the  meanwhile  Miriam,  formerly  of  the  Land 
of  Israel,  now  of  the  Land  of  Syria  but  always,  at 
least  in  her  happier  moments,  a  dweller  in  the  Land 
of  Make-Believe,  where  you  and  I  once  lived,  had 
discovered  something  new.  By  piling  the  cushions 
high  on  that  wide  bench  which  ran  around  three 
sides  of  the  room,  and  standing  upon  them,  she  could 
look  through  the  window-opening  out  upon  the 
street.  The  lattice,  which  kept  out  the  bats  so 
nicely,  would  also  prevent  anyone  on  the  outside 
from  seeing  the  face  at  the  window. 

There  was  so  much  to  be  seen  close  at  hand! 
From  the  roof,  the  figures  on  the  streets  of  Da- 
mascus looked  almost  as  small  as  had  the  ants 
crawling  about  their  hills  in  Israel.  Why,  there  was 
Isaac  coming  and  he  had  a  timbrel  under  his  arm! 
She  was  sure  it  was  for  her  because  she  had  men- 
tioned, one  day,  how  much  better  she  could  sing 
the  Lord's  songs  when  accompanied  by  music,  and 
they  had  talked  about  timbrels.  She  knew  just  how 
he  would  give  it  to  her.  He  would  make  an  elabo- 


88  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

rate  bow  and  say:  "Fair  lady,  accept,  I  pray  thee, 
a  fond  token  of  remembrance  from  thy  faithful  sub- 
jects beyond  the  Great  Sea  who  have  sent  this, 
through  many  and  great  dangers,  by  the  hand  of  thy 
devoted  slave." 

She  would  take  it  with  very  grand  airs,  just  as  if 
she  were  a  fair  lady  with  subjects  beyond  the  Great 
Sea  and  it  had  been  sent  through  many  dangers, 
when  they  both  knew  that  he  had  bought  it  for  her 
in  that  very  city  in  one  of  those  puzzling  little  shops 
he  had  told  her  about  and  which  he  was  going  to 
take  her  to  see  some  time.  She  wondered  if  it  would 
be  the  day  he  would  also  take  her  to  see  Rachel,  who 
was  so  happy  in  the  home  of  Ezekiel's  friend  in  the 
street  of  the  merchants  of  Israel. 

Next  she  would  become  extremely  grave  and  tell 
him  that  just  before  he  came  into  the  courtyard 
somebody  had  thrown  him  a  kiss.  She  knew  it  for 
a  fact,  but  he  would  never  guess  who  it  was.  At 
first  he  would  not  believe  such  a  thing,  then  he 
would  reluctantly  admit  that  she  might  have  seen  a 
kiss  thrown,  but  it  was  surely  meant  for  someone 
else — Milcah,  perhaps.  This  being  denied,  he  would 
accept  her  word  for  it,  but  be  very  much  mystified 
and  make  so  many  wild  and  improbable  guesses  as 
to  the  source  from  which  it  came  that  it  was  a  great 
deal  of  fun.  At  last  he  would  give  it  up  and  she 
would  have  to  tell  him  that  it  was  herself.  At  this 
he  would  assume  a  comical  expression  of  relief  and 


DOUBTS  89 

say  that  such  being  the  case  he  was  not  so  distressed 
because,  not  having  any  little  sister  of  his  own,  he 
had  adopted  her,  but  if  it  had  been  anyone  else — 
here  his  tone  would  become  tragic — he  would  be 
most  uncomfortable,  for,  as  she  knew,  he  was  so 
bashful.  At  this  they  would  both  laugh,  for  he  was 
not  bashful  at  all,  and  their  play  would  be  over. 

They  would  then  sit  on  the  marble  bench  under 
the  damson  tree  in  the  courtyard,  where  they  could 
see  the  fountain  and  hear  the  birds,  and  he  would 
give  her  a  lesson.  Every  day  he  taught  her  a  few 
words  of  Syrian  and  encouraged  her  to  tell  him  all 
her  experiences  since  the  day  before  in  that  lan- 
guage so  that  she  would  the  sooner  become  pro- 
ficient. Thus  she  began  to  "save  up"  things  to  re- 
late and  to  "pick  up"  words  as  she  wandered  among 
the  maid  servants.  He  had  begun  this  task  as  a 
dreaded  duty.  He  continued  it  as  a  pleasure,  find- 
ing her  intelligent  and  quick  and  her  ideas  fre- 
quently original. 

Miriam  neither  guessed  his  one-time  aversion  to 
these  lessons  nor  his  present  satisfaction.  He  was 
learning  tact  as  well  as  patience.  She  only  knew 
that  he  was  sufficiently  young  to  grasp  her  viewpoint 
just  as  Eli  had  once  done — that  Eli  about  whom  she 
was  so  voluble.  "Because  Benjamin  had  Rachel  to 
talk  to,"  she  explained,  "and  I  am  going  to  marry 
Eli  when  I  grow  up."  He  wondered  why  he  felt 
complimented  that  she  should  tell  him  this  "secret," 


90  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

but  he  did.  In  response  he  gravely  approved  her 
choice,  and  even  asked  the  privilege  of  being  the 
friend  of  the  bridegroom,  who  would,  according  to 
Eastern  usage,  make  the  necessary  arrangements! 
The  lesson  over  he  would  say  good-by  until  the 
next  day,  and  when  he  had  gone  she  always  found 
that  the  sun  did  not  seem  to  shine  so  brightly. 

She  was  still  gazing  through  the  lattice  when  she 
was  suddenly  jerked  down,  and  a  voice  she  had 
learned  to  fear  said,  indignantly,  "I  know  the  man 
to  whom  thou  art  throwing  kisses." 

Miriam  fingered  her  arm  ruefully.  To  get  those 
bruises  over  that!  She  answered  a  little  triumph- 
antly: "Nay,  Milcah,  it  was  no  man  at  all.  It  was 
only  Isaac." 

There  was  a  sound  from  the  veranda  wonderfully 
like  a  stifled  laugh,  but  it  passed  unnoticed  in  the 
excitement.  Milcah's  tones  were  coldly  severe :  "In 
justice  I  shall  have  to  say  that  I  can  find  no  fault 
with  thy  general  conduct,  but  I  have  observed  that 
thou  art  very  bold  toward  my  brother.  Shame  on 
thee!" 

Miriam  was  stunned.  Bold !  Why,  to  be  that  was 
to  be  the  worst  thing  on  earth,  for  a  bold  maiden 
was  never  respected.  Her  mother  had  told  her. 
After  a  long  minute  she  found  voice:  "Thinkest 
thou  I  do  not  know  that  'men'  are  strangers  or  those 
who  have  no  right  to  caress  thee?  Thinkest  thou 
my  mother  hath  not  warned  me  to  be  careful  ?  Isaac 


DOUBTS  91 

is  not  a  man.  He  is  just — just — Isaac.  The  same 
as  Benjamin.  I  almost  hated  him  at  first  because 
he  took  me  from  my  home" — the  words  came  chok- 
ingly— "but  he  hath  explained  to  me  that  he  cannot 
take  me  back,  yet  he  repenteth  of  the  evil  he  hath 
done  and  seeketh  to  make  me  happy.  Thou  hast 
never  been  kind — nor  anyone  else  in  this  big  house 
save  Isaac — " 

She  could  say  no  more,  but  with  heart  almost 
bursting  under  its  load  of  grief  and  misunderstand- 
ing, she  ran  swiftly  past  Isaac  without  seeing  him 
and  hid  somewhere  to  weep  for  the  mother  she  never 
expected  to  see  again.  Milcah  was  limp  with  despair 
when  her  brother  entered  the  room. 

"At  her  age  /  never  attracted  a  man's  attention." 

"Nor  at  any  age,  sister." 

The  woman  glanced  at  him  quickly  and  beheld 
what  she  had  never  thought  to  see  in  his  face — a 
wrath  so  great  that  she  cowered  before  it.  His 
tones  were  new  and  strange:  "Oft  hast  thou  told 
me,  sister,  of  our  great  leader,  Moses,  who  met  Je- 
hovah face  to  face  in  the  flaming  bush  of  the  desert. 
I  go  to  the  desert  but  to  fight  its  wandering  hordes  of 
warriors.  Hast  thou  considered  where  /  am  to  meet 
Jehovah?  Might  it  not  be  in  the  pure  heart  of  this 
little  maid?  Certainly  I  have  done  nothing  to  de- 
serve her  gratitude  and  affection,  and  thou  as  little ; 
but  if  I  were  worthy,  I  think  there  is  naught  that 
could  hold  a  man  to  higher  thoughts  and  better 


92  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

deeds  than  the  trust  and  expectancy  in  the  eyes  of 
a  child." 

The  speaker  departed  hurriedly.  He  too  could 
say  no  more,  for  quite  suddenly  his  own  shortcom- 
ings swarmed  before  him  like  black  specters  with 
murderous  intent.  Why  had  he  not  told  Miriam  of 
her  brother's  captivity?  Why  had  he  not  taken  her 
to  see  Rachel  ?  Why  had  he  failed  to  tell  the  older 
maiden  of  the  presence  in  Syria  of  her  betrothed? 
Why  had  he  not  sought  out  Benjamin,  as  he  had 
long  ago  promised  ?  Was  it  enough  that  he  had  as- 
sured himself  of  his  benefactor's  safety?  Nay,  he 
lacked  courage.  That  was  it:  he  was  afraid,  he,  a 
soldier!  He  was  afraid  to  lose  the  flattering  con- 
fidence of  the  little  maid;  afraid  to  expose  himself 
to  the  fascination  Rachel  still  held  for  him;  afraid 
to  confess  the  injury  he  had  unwittingly  wrought 
Benjamin,  the  man  to  whom  he  was  indebted.  The 
thought  was  bitter:  he — afraid.  Yet  it  was  true. 
He  would  begin  reparation  by  telling  Miriam  of 
Benjamin ;  by  taking  her  this  very  day  to  see  Rachel ; 
but  she  was  nowhere  to  be  found  and  he  went  away 
regretful.  On  the  morrow,  if  he  could  obtain  per- 
mission, he  would  be  far  away.  //  he  could  obtain 
permission!  Did  he  not  come  and  go  at  another's 
will  ?  The  morrow  might  bring  duties  elsewhere. 

Milcah,  when  Isaac  had  gone,  sat  down  weakly 
upon  the  bench  which  had  been  the  scene  of  Miriam's 
transgression.  She  was  face  to  face  with  a  stupen- 


DOUBTS  93 

dous  thought.  Her  young  brother  was  growing 
into  manhood.  He  formed  his  own  opinions  and 
defended  them.  She  had  lost  her  baby!  She  said 
the  words  over  slowly,  trying  to  comprehend ;  trying 
to  tear  loose  her  heartstrings;  trying  to  imagine 
him  as  he  would  be  in  the  future.  She  was  dazed, 
bewildered,  sorrowful.  That  he  should  have  rebelled 
against  words  spoken  for  his  own  good ;  should  have 
defied  her,  to  whom  he  was  so  dear!  The  outburst 
had  been  so  unnecessary,  and  then  her  anger  flamed 
against  Miriam.  Had  it  not  been  for  her  it  would 
never  have  happened.  Always  was  there  a  maid, 
large  or  small,  to  come  between  a  man  and  his 
family.  Had  she  not  seen  it?  It  was  the  way  of 
the  world.  The  only  thing  that  saved  the  present 
situation  was  that  this  was  a  little  maid.  How  care- 
ful she  would  have  to  be  never  to  offend  one  whom 
he  loved! 

Meditating  irritably,  she  was  annoyed  to  find  a 
small  figure  in  her  lap,  a  wet  cheek  pressed  to  hers : 
"I  am  sorry,  Milcah,  that  I  said  thou  wert  not  kind. 
I  should  have  remembered  thou  wert  not  brought 
up  in  Israel,  and  so  thou  dost  not  know  about  'show- 
ing forth  his  loving-kindness  in  the  morning  and  his 
faithfulness  every  night,'  but  be  of  good  comfort, 
I  will  show  thee  how." 

The  woman  gasped.  "I  need  not,"  she  com- 
menced indignantly,  and  broke  off  the  sentence  in 
the  middle,  glaring  in  displeasure  but  utter  helpless- 


94  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

ness  into  the  tear-stained  face  of  this  unwelcome 
child  who  was  taking  such  unwarranted  liberties. 
No  one  else  would  dare !  Yet  it  was  distinctly  pleas- 
ant to  feel  those  clinging  little  arms.  It  roused  one 
to  such  unexpectedly  human  emotions.  She  won- 
dered how  it  would  have  been  if  her  mother  had 
not  frowned  upon  Somebody.  If  the  brief  ro- 
mance, so  quickly  stifled,  had  come  true,  if  she  had 
married,  would  a  little  maid  of  her  very  own  be 
making  charming  overtures  of  affection  like  this 
one? 

All  at  once  Milcah  gathered  the  child  to  her 
bosom,  a  little  awed  at  the  overpowering  sweetness 
of  it  but  wholly  lost  in  its  joy.  Without  premedita- 
tion she  was  whispering  soft  words  which  had  never 
been  used  since  Isaac  had  needed  them ;  words  which 
came  falteringly  from  a  tongue  to  which  they  were 
new  and  strange;  words  she  had  thought  never  to 
speak  again.  A  long  time  they  sat  thus  while  a 
maid  servant  peeped  in  at  the  door  and,  amazed  at 
what  she  saw,  went  away  stealthily  to  tell  the  tale 
to  those  who  scoffed  at  it  as  impossible. 

Thus  did  Miriam  end  her  Quest  of  the  Hidden 
Heart,  the  same  having  been  found. 


CHAPTER  IX 
INTRODUCTIONS 

IT  was  a  week  later  that  Milcah's  voice  interrupted 
Miriam's  slumbers :  "Arise  quickly  and  prepare  thy- 
self. This  day  thou  goest  with  me  to  the  shop  of 
Amos,  the  perfumer." 

A  pair  of  bright  eyes  flew  open,  a  cheerful  voice 
answered,  and  an  agile  little  body  was  soon  robing 
itself. 

"Nay,  not  that  garment,  Miriam,  but  this  which 
I  have  had  woven  for  thee,  and  sandals  for  street- 
wear  and  this  padded  cloak.  The  morning  is  cool." 

The  recipient  of  these  unusual  attentions  gazed 
with  delight,  touching  the  gifts  with  admiration  and 
wonder.  "  'Tis  so  white,  Milcah,  the  robe,  I  mean, 
and  it  hath  such  a  beautiful  border  of  colored 
threads.  I  like  it  better  than  fringe  and  I  never  had 
so  fine  a  cloak  before  nor  such  expensive  sandals. 
They  are  like  a  pair  sent  to  Rachel  from  this  very 
city  by  her  kinsman,  Ezekiel." 

It  had  been  a  very  different  week  from  any 
Miriam  had  passed  before.  Milcah's  awkward  moth- 
erliness  had  been  all  the  more  welcome  since  Isaac 
had  been  away  on  business  for  his  master.  She  had 
seen  him  for  but  a  brief  and  serious  moment. 

"When  I  return,"  he  had  told  her,  "I  must  tell 

95 


96  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

thee  something  thou  shouldst  have  known  before. 
Also,  thou  shalt  see  Rachel,  but  to-day  there  is  not 
time  enough,"  and  he  was  gone. 

The  speech  had  led  to  much  speculation  as  to  what 
that  "something"  might  be,  but  then  she  was  puz- 
zled by  quite  a  number  of  things  in  the  new  life. 
For  instance,  it  was  not  a  joyous  household.  No 
one  was  ever  merry,  and  if  any  inadvertently 
laughed  aloud,  he  or  she  immediately  assumed  an 
apologetic  attitude  which  seemed  strange  when 
coupled  with  the  evident  prosperity  of  the  House 
of  Naaman.  Also,  though  of  lesser  importance, 
there  was  one  door  in  the  Women's  Courtyard  which 
never  remained  open  and  through  which  none  passed 
save  Milcah  and,  less  often,  Isaac.  Miriam  had 
never  asked  questions.  To  her,  the  Closed  Door 
was  an  accepted  but  mystifying  fact  just  as  was  the 
Joyless  Household ;  just  as  had  been  the  Lady  of  the 
Hidden  Heart  by  whose  side  she  was  now  crossing 
the  courtyard. 

At  a  point  just  outside  the  gate  they  met 
Isaac,  who  greeted  them  hurriedly.  He  had  re- 
turned but  an  hour  ago,  he  said,  and  was  even  now 
setting  off  on  another  errand  on  which  he  would  be 
gone  a  few  days.  This  being  not  unusual  and  Mil- 
cah likewise  disposed  to  hasten,  they  went  their 
separate  ways,  but  Miriam  was  distinctly  disap- 
pointed. He  had  not  noticed  the  new  garments  of 
which  she  was  so  happily  conscious ;  he  had  not  in- 


INTRODUCTIONS  97 

quired  where  she  went  on  this,  the  first  occasion  she 
had  left  the  House  of  Naaman  since  she  had  entered 
it ;  he  had  scarcely  seemed  to  see  her  at  all. 

Wondering  much,  she  walked  very  soberly  by  Mil- 
cah's  side,  but  the  marvelous  experiences  of  the  next 
two  hours  crowded  unpleasant  remembrances  from 
her  mind.  For  the  first  time  she  viewed  close  at 
hand  the  streets  and  bazaars  of  Damascus;  those 
crowded  streets  at  which  she  had  once  been  af- 
frighted ;  which  she  had  so  often  observed  from  the 
roof;  which  seemed  mysteriously  shorn  of  terror 
now;  those  small,  stall-like  bazaars  Isaac  had  de- 
scribed, crowded  with  every  conceivable  merchan- 
dise, salable  articles  hung  on  the  walls  and  piled  on 
the  ground,  the  merchants  sitting  cross-legged  in 
the  center  of  their  wares.  It  was  all  so  bewilder- 
ingly  different  from  Hannathon,  the  only  "city"  she 
had  ever  seen  save  Damascus! 

The  stern  lines  of  Milcah's  mouth  relaxed  into  a 
little  smile  as  she  answered  eager,  excited  questions 
and  looked  into  the  flushed  face  of  her  companion. 
"The  child  taketh  dress,"  she  thought  to  herself. 
"She  is  not  so  unattractive  as  at  first  and  she  com- 
menteth  with  intelligence  upon  what  she  sees.  Per- 
ad venture  she  may  become  useful  to  me.  Her  nimble 
feet  may  oft  save  mine  own  from  weariness.  At 
once  will  I  begin — " 

But  Milcah's  thoughts  received  an  unexpected 
check.  She  stopped  short,  amazed  and  displeased, 


98  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

for  there,  on  the  footway  of  the  busy  street,  in  front 
of  the  shop  of  Amos  the  perfumer,  stood  Isaac, 
talking  low  and  earnestly  with  a  maiden  whose  full 
face  was  not  visible  from  where  they  stood.  The 
two  saw  only  each  other,  paying  no  attention  what- 
ever to  the  jostling  throngs  which  surged  past  them. 

Milcah  drew  Miriam  a  little  aside :  "So  this  was 
the  meaning  of  his  haste!  Deaf  is  he  and  blind  to 
his  only  sister,  and  when  he  is  married  he  will  have 
time  for  neither  thee  nor  me."  She  was  greatly 
agitated,  and  her  impressive  tones  carried  an  unac- 
countable chill  to  the  heart  of  her  listener.  She  had 
lost  her  friend !  That  was  why  he  had  not  seemed 
to  see  her  that  morning.  It  would  always  be  that 
way.  Miriam  brushed  away  a  tear  as  the  two  parted 
with  lingering  adieux. 

For  the  first  time  they  saw  the  face  of  the  girl  at 
whom  he  was  still  smiling,  and  Milcah  was  not  re- 
lieved to  note  that  she  was  of  undoubted  beauty. 
Evidently,  too,  she  was  of  Israelitish  blood,  which 
made  the  situation  all  the  more  hopeless.  It  would 
be  easier  to  urge  objections  against  one  of  another 
race.  With  determination  she  turned  to  Miriam. 

"The  maiden  went  into  the  House  of  Amos.  With 
him  have  I  business  regarding  perfumes  for  my 
mistress  and  with  his  wife  have  I  some  acquaint- 
ance, so  that  I  may,  with  no  impropriety,  inquire 
the  meaning  of  what  we  have  witnessed.  I  would 
know  how  long  this  hath  continued  and  something 


INTRODUCTIONS  99 

of  the  maid  herself.  Before  I  am  obliged  to  accept 
her  as  a  sister  I  desire  to  learn — " 

But  Milcah  was  speaking  to  empty  air.  Miriam 
had  already  disappeared  within  the  doorway  and 
when  the  woman  arrived  and  had  exchanged  with 
the  inmates  of  the  dwelling  the  elaborate  courtesies 
of  the  East,  she  found  the  child  and  the  strange 
maiden  wholly  engrossed  in  a  happy  conversation. 
The  older  girl  at  last  became  aware  of  voices  near 
and  questioning,  annoyed  glances.  She  looked  up 
with  a  face  transfigured  with  joy. 

"Two  beautiful  surprises  hath  come  to  me  to-day : 
this  little  maid  and  before  that  Isaac  came — " 

Rachel  paused,  perceiving  the  sudden  coolness 
with  which  her  words  were  received,  but  lifting  her 
head  a  trifle  defiantly  she  concluded  the  sentence 
almost  with  triumph :  "And  within  the  month  I  am 
to  be  publicly  betrothed." 

"I  suppose,"  commented  Milcah,  "that  thou  art 
counting  the  days." 

The  girl  looked  her  steadily  in  the  eye :  "I  never 
wanted  anything  in  my  life  so  much  as  I  want  a 
home  in  which  I  may  hide  from  the  cruelties  I  have 
suffered  since  I  was  taken  captive."  She  brushed 
away  a  tear.  "Yet  I  would  not  be  ungrateful  for  all 
the  mercies  vouchsafed  unto  me  by  the  God  of  my 
fathers,  nor  would  I  be  so  unjust  to  my  betrothed  as 
to  marry  him  if  I  did  not  love  him  much,  much  more 
than  my  own  ease  or  comfort." 


ioo  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

A  blush  overspread  her  cheek  and  she  smiled 
down  at  Miriam,  whom  she  was  holding  in  a  close 
embrace. 

"Then  thou  art  very  sure  thou  lovest  him  and 
wilt  make  him  a  worthy  wife;  that  thou  art  not 
taking  advantage  of  his  goodness  of  heart  nor  con- 
sidering thyself  first  of  all."  Milcah's  tone  was  ju- 
dicial, almost  accusing. 

Rachel  answered  slowly,  wonderingly:  "I  know 
not  why  thou  shouldst  ask,  but  since  our  vows  are 
soon  to  be  said  before  the  world  there  is  no  reason 
why  I  should  not  tell  thee  how  I  love  him,  have  al- 
ways loved  him — as  he  loveth  me." 

Milcah's  heart  sank.  Here  was  confirmation  of 
her  worst  fears.  She  loved  him  too.  She  did  not 
wish  him  to  marry  this  maiden,  nor  any  other,  but  if 
his  heart  were  set  in  this  direction,  she  would  not 
want  him  disappointed.  She  would  try  to  approve 
his  choice ;  try  to  forget  her  own  loneliness  when  he 
should  be  absorbed  in  someone  else  and  forget  her, 
as  was  natural,  as  all  men  did  forget  their  families 
when  once  they  were  married. 

A  little  hand  was  laid  against  her  arm,  a  little 
voice  with  compassion  in  it  was  urging  her  to  listen. 
In  the  light  of  what  had  gone  before,  Miriam  had 
understood  Milcah's  remarks  as  Rachel  could  not; 
had  comprehended  Milcah's  thoughts  from  the  de- 
spair on  her  countenance,  and  now  came  to  the  rescue 
of  both.  With  a  thrill  of  being  at  last  needed  she 


INTRODUCTIONS  101 

realized  that  she  held  the  key  to  an  embarrassing 
situation.  How  much  more  she  knew  of  the  whole 
matter  than  anyone  else  present!  She  could  guess 
why  Isaac  had  come.  Had  he  not  promised  to  take 
care  of  Rachel  for  Benjamin,  to  whom  he  was  in- 
debted? Into  an  atmosphere  thick  with  misunder- 
standing, Miriam  volubly  poured  her  explanations. 

And  now,  she  concluded,  Isaac  had  gone  to  bring 
Benjamin,  to  whom  Rachel  was  betrothed,  lacking 
only  the  public  acknowledgment.  Not  until  Rachel 
told  her  did  Miriam  know  he  was  also  in  Syria,  a 
captive  with  his  flock,  Isaac  having  spared  to  tell 
her  lest  she  grieve  for  the  desolation  of  her  parents. 
Her  voice  choked.  But  now  that  Rachel  had  no 
home  (Rebekah  winced),  she  was  glad  he  was 
near. 

"Thinkest  thou  he  will  come?"  asked  Rebekah's 
friend,  sharply.  "Will  he  not  resent  the — the — in- 
terest of  the  soldier?" 

Rachel  answered  with  a  trace  of  indignation.  "He 
will  be  grateful  to  the  soldier,  for  much  kindness 
hath  Isaac  showed  me  and  asked  naught  in  return." 

Milcah,  likewise  indignant  at  the  slur,  found  her- 
self liking  Rachel  immensely.  In  this  maiden's 
hands  her  brother's  reputation  was  quite  safe. 

Miriam  assured  them  that  he  would  come  and 
that  without  delay,  and  went  on  to  add  numberless 
details  which  bore  the  manifest  stamp  of  truth,  even 
to  the  mention  of  the  sandals  she  was  wearing, 


102  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

which  were  so  very  like  a  pair  Ezekiel  had  once  sent 
Rachel. 

Long  after  farewells  had  been  said  and  the 
visitors  had  departed,  Rachel  caressed  the  grass- 
woven  bracelet  strung  from  a  chain  around  her  neck, 
oblivious  to  comments,  unheeding  the  low-toned  con- 
ference between  Rebekah  and  her  friend. 

"The  minute  I  saw  her  with  him,"  Rebekah  was 
saying,  "never  did  I  doubt  either  of  them  nor  the 
tale  they  told." 

"Never,"  agreed  her  friend,  "and  she  with  looks 
and  ways  so  like  Ezekiel,  as  we  have  often  said." 

"Well  do  I  remember,"  continued  Rebekah,  "the 
gifts  he  sent  to  Israel  and  with  what  praise  he  spoke 
of  this  young  kinswoman!  The  child,  Miriam,  re- 
calleth  it  to  my  mind.  A  lovable  little  maid !  Ah  me, 
how  fast  they  grow!  To  think  I  should  not  have 
known  Isaac,  a  man  now  and  an  officer,  when  as  a 
lad  his  sister  hath  oft  brought  him  to  the  shop!" 

"If  only  the  maiden  were  betrothed  to  the 
soldier!"  sighed  the  friend,  "but  to  a  wandering 
shepherd!" 

"Yea,"  Rebekah  answered,  sorrowfully,  "and  a 
sad  day  will  it  be  for  Amos  and  me  when  we  shall 
have  to  lose  our  sweet  little  Rachel !" 

That  visit  changed  Miriam's  whole  attitude  to- 
ward her  new  life.  Although  her  longing  for  her 
parents  and  the  old  familiar  faces  and  places  re- 


INTRODUCTIONS  103 

mained  almost  overpowering  at  times,  yet  in  Ra- 
chel's presence  and  Benjamin's  nearness  she  dis- 
covered comforting  home  ties.  The  certainty  that 
her  brother  would  soon  be  in  Damascus  and  that  she 
was  free  to  visit  her  friend,  did  much  to  bring  con- 
tentment. A  captive  she  might  be,  but  not  a  pris- 
oner. The  color  began  to  come  back  to  the  pale 
cheeks ;  she  grew  more  cheerful  and  energetic,  more 
diligent  in  seeking  ways  of  usefulness,  and  that  is 
how  it  happened  that  she  had  an  adventure  while 
Isaac  was  gone.  She  walked  straight  through  the 
Closed  Door  and  stepped — not  on  but  still  further 
into — Milcah's  heart. 

It  was  Memory  that  opened  the  door  and  Kind- 
ness which  escorted  her  over  the  threshold,  and  it 
all  came  about  through  her  new  timbrel.  She  was 
singing  in  the  courtyard  and  inadvertently  paused 
near  the  Closed  Door. 

"Show  me  thy  ways,  O  Lord; 

Teach  me  thy  paths. 
Guide  me  in  thy  truth  and  teach  mt; 
For  thou  art  the  God  of  my  salvation; 
For  thee  do  I  wait  all  the  day." 

Looking  up,  she  was  startled  to  find  Milcah  at 
hand  with  a  hesitant  invitation. 

"I  never  told  thee  before  and  asked  Isaac  not  to 
let  thee  know  that  our  mother  is  living,  lest  thou  an- 
noy her.  She  is  old  and  bedridden,  and  I  thought 


104  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

she  would  not  enjoy  having  a  child  around,  but  to- 
day she  hath  heard  thee  singing  the  Lord's  songs  in 
which  she  rejoiceth  and  hath  asked  that  thou 
shouldst  be  brought  to  her.  Dost  thou  wish  to  go  ? 
She  is  a  native  of  Israel." 

"Take  me  quickly,  Milcah.  I  would  be  so  very 
glad  to  sing  to  her,"  and  though  the  woman  looked 
incredulous,  she  did  not  delay. 

Behind  the  Closed  Door  was  a  sight  that  ordina- 
rily would  not  appeal  to  youth,  for  age  is  not  beau- 
tiful in  the  East.  Wrinkled,  bald,  toothless  and 
feeble,  it  excited  compassion  in  the  heart  of  the  little 
visitor.  She  went  to  the  bed  and  spoke  kindly, 
stooping  to  peer  into  the  weak  eyes  and  to  pat  the 
worn  hand.  Then,  at  a  command,  she  picked  up 
her  timbrel  and  sang  again : 

"Blessed  be  the  Lord, 

Because  he  hath  heard  the  voice  of  my  supplications. 
The  Lord  is  my  strength  and  my  shield, 
In  him  hath  my  heart  trusted, 
And  I  am  helped; 

Therefore  my  heart  greatly  rejoiceth, 
And  with  my  song  will  I  praise  him." 

That  was  only  the  beginning:  the  beginning  of 
that  particular  visit  and  of  others  which  followed, 
and  in  between  the  songs  were  snatches  of  conversa- 
tion in  the  speech  of  Israel.  In  her  youth  the  invalid 
had  been  a  resident  of  Tish-bi  (or  Tish-beh)  in 


INTRODUCTIONS  105 

Gilead,  the  cattle  country  east  of  the  Jordan,  in 
whose  fertile  valleys  grew  the  spicy  herbs  for  medi- 
cine and  perfume  which  had  made  her  land  famous 
all  over  the  East. 

In  her  village  were  the  home  and  kinsfolk  of 
Elijah,  the  prophet  of  Jehovah,  whom  she  well  re- 
membered with  his  long,  thick  hair,  his  girdle  of 
skins  and  his  sheepskin  mantle  or  cloak,  and  more 
than  one  tale  did  she  tell  of  his  prowess  in  strength, 
for,  exposed  to  the  raids  of  the  fierce  desert  tribes 
as  was  Gilead  on  the  east,  every  man  must  be  a 
soldier  at  need.  She  told  of  the  prophet's  earnest- 
ness and  eloquence,  his  stormy  moods  of  exaltation 
and  despair,  his  wanderings,  his  sudden  reappear- 
ances where  least  expected,  his  invectives  against 
Baal  by  which  he  had  roused  the  ire  of  the  foreign 
Queen  Jezebel,  his  miraculous  escapes  from  per- 
sonal danger  and  the  staggering  blow  he  finally  gave 
Baal-worship  on  Mount  Carmel. 

Only  through  Miriam's  eyes,  however,  did  she 
know  Elijah's  successor,  Elisha  the  Healer,  the  civ- 
ilized man  who  dwelt  in  cities,  who  for  the  most 
part  went  about  displaying  the  loving-kindness  of 
Jehovah  rather  than  his  terrible  might;  whose  task 
it  was  to  build  up  as  Elijah's  had  been  to  destroy; 
who  established  the  prophetic  Guilds  wherein  the 
Law  which  had  been  so  long  forgotten  was  once 
more  taught.  And  then  Miriam  and  her  new  friend 
fell  into  more  personal  confidences,  comparing  notes 


io6  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

as  to  their  coming  to  Syria,  their  impressions,  their 
longings,  weeping  and  smiling  together  and  parting 
only  to  visit  again  at  the  earliest  opportunity. 

Thus  did  Hope,  nature's  most  renowned  and  suc- 
cessful physician,  undertake  the  cure  of  the  little 
maid's  wounded  heart  as,  far  away,  it  was  doing 
likewise  for  her  mother,  though  Miriam  knew  it 
not. 


CHAPTER  X 
HANNATHON 

THE  village  or  "city"  of  Hannathon  in  the  Land 
of  Israel  saw  startling  changes  as  a  result  of  the 
Syrian  raid.  Gone  were  the  flocks  and  herds ;  gone 
were  the  stores  of  oil  and  wine ;  gone  was  the  lately 
garnered  grain,  and  they  who  had  journeyed  to 
Jerusalem  to  the  feast  returned  to  scant  supplies. 
It  was  Eli  who  waited  for  them  at  the  foot  of  the 
hill  and  broke  the  news  to  the  little  companies  as  they 
arrived,  but  Caleb,  father  of  Miriam,  came  not. 

"He  tarrieth  a  day  or  two  behind  us,"  said  his 
friends,  and  Eli  waited  impatiently  one  day  and  a 
second  and  yet  a  third  after  the  last  of  his  towns- 
men had  straggled  up  the  hill.  Then  it  was  Sarah, 
and  not  Caleb,  who  met  his  view,  riding  dejectedly 
her  faithful  and  weary  beast  and  leading  the  other, 
on  the  back  of  which  was  bound  something  still  and 
covered. 

As  Caleb  had  traveled,  making  what  haste  he 
could  in  pleasant  anticipation  of  home  and  family, 
he  had  been  set  upon  by  thieves.  He  had  not  risen 
from  the  narrow,  rocky  road  in  which  he  had  fallen 
from  the  blows  of  the  robber  band,  but  the  timely 
arrival  of  other  pilgrims  had  doubtless  saved  her 
from  the  same  fate.  They  had  dragged  his  body 

107 


io8  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

into  a  convenient  cave  while  they  tried  frantically 
to  restore  breathing,  but  finding  it  quite  useless  they 
had  bound  the  burden  to  the  back  of  his  patient  ass 
and  accompanied  her  to  within  sight  of  Hannathon. 

In  the  pitiful  horror  of  her  tale  Eli  felt  that  his 
own  was  matched.  If  he  could  only  spare  her !  But 
he  could  not,  and  told  her  as  tenderly  as  possible. 
She  listened  numbly,  without  exclamation,  without 
tears.  It  was  as  if  brain  and  nerves  had  already 
borne  more  than  they  could  take  cognizance  of. 
After  a  time  he  helped  her  up  the  hill,  where  Judith 
was  waiting;  waiting  in  dread  of  the  displeasure  she 
knew  she  merited,  yet  keyed  up  to  defiance.  There 
was,  however,  no  harsh  rebuke.  In  fact,  Sarah 
seemed  scarcely  to  recognize  her  as  she  leaned 
heavily  upon  Eli.  Hastily  Judith  unrolled  the 
thickly  padded  rug  or  quilt  which  served  as  a  bed 
and  the  two  laid  her  upon  it.  Without  a  word  she 
turned  her  face  to  the  wall  and  Eli  beckoned  the 
girl  to  the  door,  where  he  whispered  the  sad  news 
concerning  Caleb. 

Later  in  the  day  a  crowd  of  white- faced  men  and 
women  laid  the  body  reverently  away  and  sealed  the 
rocky  tomb  with  a  heavy  stone.  Sarah,  on  her  bed, 
appeared  unconscious  of  all  that  passed,  and  Judith 
would  not  leave  her.  After  doing  a  hundred  things 
which  occurred  to  her  as  necessary  for  the  bodily 
comfort  of  her  kinswoman,  the  girl  patiently 
watched  the  long  night  through,  the  one  witness  to 


HANNATHON  109 

Sarah's  dumb  agony.  Eli  was,  of  course,  with  his 
mother.  A  neighbor,  coming  to  offer  her  services, 
had  said  that  Hannah  might  not  live. 

Mad  fancies  took  possession  of  Judith  that  awful 
night.  She  had  the  feeling  that  every  hour  was  a 
year  and  that,  by  morning,  she  would  be  an  old,  old 
woman.  Again,  she  was  a  mother,  brooding  over  a 
sick  babe,  and  she  stroked  the  head  on  the  mattress 
and  murmured  soothing  words.  At  other  times  she 
had  a  wild  desire  to  shriek,  to  tear  her  hair,  to  stamp 
and  rave,  but  in  the  presence  of  that  awful  stillness 
came  peace.  In  the  gray  of  the  morning  she  opened 
the  heavy  front  door  and  let  in  a  stream  of  sweet, 
cool  air.  As  she  stood  there  her  mind  cleared. 

There  was  something  tangible  about  that  long 
street  with  its  flat-roofed  houses,  seen  dimly  through 
the  mist;  there  was  something  tangible  about  that 
silvery  rim  rising  higher  and  higher  in  the  east  and 
gradually  dissipating  the  shadows ;  there  was  some- 
thing tangible  in  the  chill  wind  that  swept  over  and 
around  her.  In  a  little  while  she  would  go  for  fuel. 
They  would  enjoy  the  warmth  of  a  fire  even  if  there 
was  little  to  eat.  As  she  turned  back  into  the  house 
Sarah  broke  her  long  silence.  She  was  holding 
something  in  her  hand  and  peering  at  it. 

"Neither  husband  nor  son,"  she  was  saying  in  a 
voice  very  unlike  her  own,  "but  this — this — which 
can  avail  nothing;  this  for  which  hath  been  spent 
the  earnings  of  years;  this  for  which  Caleb  was 


no  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

slain  and  which  was  yet  not  found  because  I  had 
hidden  it;  this  which  hath  no  power  to  avenge  my 
daughter  or  to  bring  me  back  my  loved  ones  or  to 
do  aught  but  torment  with  its  impotency." 

Raising  up  on  her  elbow,  she  threw  out  of  the 
door  whatever  it  was  she  held  in  her  hand,  and  lay 
back  exhausted.  After  a  moment  she  went  on  in 
that  strangely  rambling  tone:  "Neither  husband 
nor  son  to  avenge  the  captivity  of  my  daughter; 
to—" 

A  tall  form  stood  in  the  doorway.  It  was  Eli.  At 
the  words  he  came  forward  and  bent  over  the  figure 
on  the  pallet,  his  hot  tears  dropping  on  her  face. 

"The  son  who  is  without  a  mother  shall  care  for 
the  mother  who  is  without  a  son.  An  hour  ago 
my  mother  fell  victim  to  the  soldier's  sword."  He 
clinched  his  hands  and  drew  a  long,  sobbing  breath. 
"I  will  avenge  thy  daughter  and  my  brother  and  my 
mother.  For  one  thing  only  will  I  live  henceforth : 
to  follow  into  Syria  those  who  are  gone ;  to  find  them 
and  to  secure  their  ransom.  Their  sorrows  shall  be 
mine ;  their  weeping  shall  be  even  as  mine  own,  and 
woe  unto  him  by  whom  they  were  taken !" 

The  woman  seemed  strangely  excited.  She  rose 
unsteadily  and  tottered  to  the  door.  "I  threw  away 
that  which  would  help  thee  to  accomplish  thy  vow. 
It  was  a  pearl,  a  pearl  of  great  price  which  we 
brought  from  Jerusalem,  meaning  to  give  it  to 
Miriam  when  she  is  older." 


HANNATHON  in 

Attempting  to  cross  the  threshold  she  fell,  over- 
borne by  lack  of  nourishment,  weariness  and  grief. 
Eli  raised  her  with  his  one  good  arm  and  he  and 
Judith  again  laid  her  on  the  bed.  He  lingered,  speak- 
ing comforting  words  the  while:  "When  it  is  fully 
light  we  will  look  for  thy  pearl.  Fear  not,  it  shall 
be  found.  Judith  and  I  will  seek — "  but  Judith  was 
slipping  hastily  away. 

"I  go  for  firewood,"  she  explained,  and  partially 
closed  the  door  behind  her.  Once  outside  and  as- 
sured that  Eli  still  sat  beside  her  aunt,  she  sank  to 
her  knees  and  groped  upon  the  ground.  Handfuls 
of  earth,  sticks  and  stones,  thorns  and  stinging  ants 
rewarded  her  search,  but  she  cared  not.  The  sun 
rose  higher  and  she  lifted  her  head  in  smiling  thank- 
fulness. At  last  she  rose,  rejoicing,  clutching  some- 
thing in  her  hand,  hugging  it  to  her  bosom. 

She  was  about  to  re-enter  the  house  when,  far  be- 
low her,  she  espied  the  familiar  figure  of  a  man.  In 
demonstrative  Eastern  fashion  he  was  beating  his 
breast  and  pouring  dust  upon  his  head,  customs  in- 
dicative of  overwhelming  sorrow.  The  girl  sud- 
denly changed  her  mind  and  went  down  the  hill, 
passing  the  man  but  paying  no  attention  to  him. 
Half  an  hour  later  he  passed  her  where  she  was  in- 
dustriously and  demurely  gathering  brush.  In  the 
common  calamity  Eastern  etiquette  might  well  be 
disregarded.  He  stopped  to  speak  to  her  as  though 
she  had  been  a  man  and  an  equal. 


112  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

"Woe  is  me,"  he  began.  "Gone  are  my  flocks  and 
herds ;  gone  are  my  stores  of  wine  and  olives ;  gone 
is  my  newly  garnered  grain;  naught  remaineth  but 
the  bare  fields  wherewith  to  mock  me  while  famine 
and  sickness  and  death  stare  our  village  in  the  face." 

"Not  to  mock  thee,  my  lord,"  she  replied,  her 
voice  low  from  nervousness  and  the  fear  of  being 
overheard  by  some  unsuspected  passer-by,  "not  to 
mock  thee  do  thy  fields  stare  thee  in  the  face,  but  to 
save  us  from  the  disasters  thou  dost  mention." 

His  tones  held  surprise  and  a  certain  amount  of 
incredulity.  "A  prudent  mind  is  thine,  but  long  will 
it  be  until  next  harvest,  and  how  shall  we  live 
until  then?"  He  regarded  her  shrewdly  while  she 
made  answer. 

"In  our  house  is  a  little  food;  in  Hannah's  a  little 
more;  probably  some  remaineth  in  every  dwelling. 
Do  thou  go  quickly,  my  lord,  gather  up  whatever 
there  be  and  put  it  in  thy  storehouse.  Then  it  shall 
be  that  day  by  day  the  people  shall  come  unto  thee 
for  food  and  thou  shalt  apportion  it,  so-much  and 
so-much  for  each  person.  Thus  shall  the  gluttonous 
divide  with  him  that  hath  little  and  so  shall  all  be 
fed.  Fear  not,  thou  shalt  plant  and  reap  in  due  time. 
Hasten,  my  lord,  the  village  waiteth  upon  thee." 

In  his  eyes  was  frank  admiration.  "Wise  are  thy 
words  and  quickly  will  I  do  as  thou  sayest,  but  how 
thinkest  thou  I  can  plant  without  seed  and  reap  with 
nothing  wherewith  to  sow  ?" 


HANNATHON  113 

Judith's  hand  opened  and  trembling  a  little  she 
held  before  his  dazzled  eyes  the  pearl  she  had  just 
found:  "A  jewel,  my  lord,  given  unto  me  by  my 
father  and  kept  hidden  until  now.  Do  thou  take  it 
and  go  unto  other  cities  and  buy  seed.  So  shalt 
thou  and  I  and  the  village  be  saved  from  death  and 
thy  prosperity  come  again.  Only,  I  pray  thee,  tell 
no  one  whence  came  the  pearl.'* 

She  paused,  a  world  of  entreaty  in  her  manner. 
He  assented,  his  hand  clutching  the  jewel,  but  his 
eyes  fastened  upon  her. 

"Most  discreet  art  thou  of  all  the  women  of  Is- 
rael and  long  hath  my  soul  cleaved  unto  thee.  I 
will  do  as  thou  sayest,  and  when  I  return  it  shall  be, 
if  thou  thinkest  well,  that  I  shall  ask  for  thee  at  the 
hands  of  thy  kinswoman,  Sarah,  and  thou  shalt  be 
my  wife." 

Judith  stooped  without  haste  and  picked  up  her 
bundle  of  brush.  "Yea,  my  lord,"  she  murmured* 
preparing  to  leave  him  and  dropping  her  eyelids  to 
hide  an  exultant  gleam,  "thy  servant  shall  be  obedi- 
ent unto  thy  wishes  in  the  matter." 

Halfway  up  the  hill  she  paused  and  looked  back. 
He  was  diligently  examining  the  pearl.  Her  lip 
curled  slightly. 

"Thy  soul  cleaveth  unto  me,  thou  sayest?  Nay, 
for  hereabouts  they  say  thou  hast  none."  'She 
laughed  to  herself.  "When  a  faithless  Israelite  tak- 
eth  unto  himself  a  wife  who  is  a  'heathen'  they  who. 


114  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

know  us  will  say  that  no  worse  fate  could  come  to 
either.  And  when  the  two  who  are  most  despised 
form  an  alliance,  each  should  know  that  there  is  no 
friend  save  in  the  other." 

The  sun  had  risen  fully  when  Judith  returned  to 
the  house.  Eli,  groping  unavailingly  upon  the 
ground,  drew  her  aside  for  a  whispered  word.  "No 
pearl  can  I  find  and  she  had  not  strength  to  throw 
it  far.  Thinkest  thou  she  had  the  jewel  but  in  a 
dream?  Thinkest  thou  that  sorrow  hath  affected 
her  mind  ?" 

The  girl  drew  a  breath  of  relief  and  letting  fall  the 
brush  pretended  to  assist  him  in  the  search.  "Yea," 
she  assented  with  apparent  reluctance,  "surely  it  is 
as  thou  sayest,  and  she  but  dreamed.  As  if  she 
would  cast  away  a  valuable  pearl !  Nay,  but  thou 
hast  spoken  the  truth,"  and  sighing  heavily  she 
passed  into  the  house. 

Adah,  wife  of  Naaman,  was  slightly  indisposed. 
Restlessly  she  tossed  on  her  silken  pillow,  wooing 
in  vain  the  sleep  which  came  fitfully  and  with  dis- 
turbing dreams.  Her  attendant  had  departed  on 
some  errand  when  through  the  open  door  there  stole 
a  small  shadow.  Softly  it  moved  about  the  room  for 
a  few  moments,  touching  this  and  changing  that, 
then  it  came  and  stood  over  the  fair  form  of  the 
mistress  of  this  magnificent  home.  It  stooped, 
straightened  up  as  if  considering,  then  bent  hastily 


HANNATHON  115 

and  kissed  gently  each  eyelid.  The  eyes  flew  open 
in  bewilderment  and  at  the  same  moment  a  delighted 
little  voice  exclaimed : 

"I  knew  it  would.  It  never  faileth.  I  have  been 
looking  at  thee  for  a  long  time  through  the  open 
door  and  thou  wert  so  restless  I  thought  it  better  to 
wake  thee  up  entirely  while  I  give  thee  a  fresh,  cool 
pillow,"  suiting  the  action  to  the  word,  "then  will  I 
kiss  each  eyelid  again  and  thou  wilt  go  straight  to 
sleep.  Dost  thou  notice  how  I  have  propped  these 
other  pillows  to  shut  out  the  light,  and  drawn  the 
curtains  so  they  will  sway  with  the  breeze  and  make 
thee  think  thou  art  breathing  the  sweet  air  of  the 
courtyard?  There,  I  have  smoothed  thy  robes  and 
thou  wilt  be  much  more  comfortable.  Now,  a  kiss 
here — and  one  on  this  eye — nay,  open  them  not ;  thou 
must  not  get  too  wide  awake,  for  I  have  not  time 
to  sing  thee  to  sleep  to-day.  There — sh — sh!" 

The  object  of  these  unexpected  attentions  drew  a 
satisfied  sigh.  It  was  pleasant  to  be  put  so  entirely 
at  ease  without  having  to  think  about  it  at  all.  The 
others  fussed  so  and  it  grew  monotonous  to  be  giv- 
ing directions  continually.  She  had  never  been  taken 
possession  of  in  just  this  way  before.  Everybody 
else — even  Milcah — was  so  irritatingly  anxious  to 
be  dignified  and  proper.  There  was  nothing  disre- 
spectful in  these  quiet  tones.  It  merely  showed  sense. 
A  moment  later  there  floated  through  her  drowsy 
consciousness  the  startling  intelligence  that  this  must 


n6  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

be  the  little  maid  of  Israel  whom  she  had  so  dreaded 
until  "trained."  Taking  care  not  to  open  the  eyes 
so  surprisingly  closed,  the  lady  murmured  a  com- 
mand to  stay  right  there  lest  she  should  want  some- 
thing farther. 

"I  should  like  to,"  Miriam  answered  serenely, 
"but  thou  hast  everything  thou  wilt  need  for  quite 
awhile  because  thou  wilt  be  asleep.  I  have  to  take 
my  timbrel  now  and  sing  to  Milcah's  mother.  She  is 
much,  much  older  than  thou  and  needeth  me  much, 
much  more,  but  I  will  come  again  to  see  thee  when 
I  can  spare  the  time,"  with  which  cheerful  assur- 
ance Miriam  betook  herself  off  with  the  gladness  of 
being  at  last  wanted. 

Her  newest  acquaintance,  so  unceremoniously  dis- 
obeyed for  the  sake  of  duty,  lay  there  smiling  and 
then — to  her  own  amazement  as  she  thought  about 
it  afterward — actually  went  to  sleep  as  she  was  bid- 
den and  awoke  refreshed,  as  the  little  maid  had  said. 
She  awoke  too  with  a  delightful  sensation  of  an- 
ticipation, wondering  how  and  when  this  astonish- 
ing child  would  keep  her  promise  of  another  visit. 
Nay,  she  would  not  send  for  her  lest  it  mar  the 
charming  spontaneity  of  the  occasion  and,  had 
Miriam  but  known  of  this,  she  might  also  have 
known  that  Adah  was  not  accustomed  to  looking  for- 
ward with  pleasure.  To  her,  life  had  become  a 
weary  round  of  sameness  with  dread  calamity  as  its 
certain  goal. 


CHAPTER  XI 
CONFESSION 

SOMEWHERE  out  on  the  Syrian  hills  a  shepherd 
was  engaged  in  a  most  interesting  occupation.  At 
the  door  of  the  sheepfold  he  was  holding  a  light  rod, 
forked  at  one  end,  under  which  the  flock  passed  as 
he  counted.  It  was  always  the  last  task  of  the  eve- 
ning. 

"Seventy-five,  seventy-six,  seventy-seven.  So 
far  nothing  hath  disturbed  thee  through  the  day 
now  gone.  Seventy-eight,  seventy-nine.  Nay,  Mas- 
ter Bold,  thou  wilt  wait  thy  turn.  Eighty,  eighty- 
one,  eighty-two.  Come,  thou  timid  one,  thy  mother 
is  already  in  and  calleth  for  thee.  Eighty-three, 
eighty-four,  eighty-five.  Now,  Bright  Eyes,  what 
mischief  art  thou  up  to?  This  rod  is  a  means  of 
counting,  but  it  can  be  turned  into  a  means  of  pun- 
ishment if  it  be  necessary  to  make  thee  see  thy  duty. 
Eighty-six,  eighty-seven.  Nay,  not  so  much  crowd- 
ing there.  Youth  is  eager,  knowing  not  that  time  is 
long  and  weariness  certain.  Eighty-eight,  eighty- 
nine,  ninety.  What,  my  pearl,  the  heat  of  the  day 
hath  been  too  much  for  thee  ?  Wait  thou." 

The  shepherd  hastily  dipped  his  fingers  in  the  horn 
of  olive  oil  that  hung  at  his  belt  and  anointed  its 
temples. 

117 


n8  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

"There,  so  shalt  thou  be  refreshed,  and  here,  do 
thou  drink  of  this  cup  of  cold  water  which  overflow- 
eth  for  thee." 

The  needy  one  attended  to,  he  went  on  with  his 
count  of  the  others.  "Ninety-one,  ninety-two—" 

Two  horsemen  approached,  the  one  behind  leading 
a  third  animal  which  was  without  a  rider.  At  a 
sign,  the  one  with  the  led  horse  halted  while  the 
other  dismounted  and  with  some  impatience  waited 
until  the  long  enumeration  was  finished.  Then  he 
advanced  toward  the  shepherd. 

"Peace  be  unto  thee." 

"And  to  thee,"  the  shepherd  made  answer.  "Thou 
art  in  uniform.  Hast  thou  orders  for  thy  servant? 
Quickly,  thy  name  and  errand.  One  of  my  sheep 
hath  strayed  and  I  go  to  seek  it,  hastening  lest  the 
darkness  descend  and  I  be  unable  to  find  it." 

"Well  thou  knowest,  Benjamin,  that  I  am  Isaac, 
servant  to  Naaman,  commander-in-chief  of  the 
armies  of  Syria,  but  I  come  on  a  private  and  not  on 
an  official  errand.  Lead  thou  the  way  and  I  will  go 
with  thee." 

There  was  an  awkward  silence  broken  at  last  by 
the  soldier:  "Thou  art  looking  somewhat  haggard 
since  I  saw  thee  last,  Benjamin." 

"I  have  passed  through  much  sorrow  of  spirit, 
Isaac." 

"But  surely  thou  hast  no  fault  to  find  with  thy 
treatment.  Thou  hast  a  well-built  sheepfold:  the 


CONFESSION  119 

long,  low  buildings  to  shelter  thy  flock  in  storms, 
the  large  space  for  them  to  roam  in  when  thou  dost 
not  bring  them  to  pasture,  and  the  whole  surrounded 
by  wide  stone  walls,  surmounted  by  sharp  thorns 
to  keep  out  wild  beasts.  Nor  have  we  a  hard  mas- 
ter to  serve.  Thy  faithfulness  and  ability  will  be 
noted  by  those  who  have  charge  of  such  matters  for 
the  king." 

The  shepherd's  tones  were  infinitely  sad :  "Could 
any  reward  compensate  my  parents  for  the  loss  of 
their  only  son;  for  their  loneliness  and  grief  and 
real  need  of  me?  Could  any  reward  make  up  to  my 
little  sister  for  the  brother  who  should  guard  and 
guide  her?  Could  any  reward  atone  to  me  for  the 
loss  of  my  well-beloved,  my  betrothed?" 

The  light  was  already  dim  as  they  stumbled  over 
the  rocks  and  through  patches  of  woodland,  the  long 
briars  catching  at  their  garments  and  tearing  the 
flesh.  They  passed  another  sheep  fold.  Benjamin 
raised  his  voice  in  a  shout:  "Hast  thou  found  a 
sheep  which  is  lost?" 

Clearly  the  answer  came  back:  "Nay,  we  have 
none  but  our  own." 

Sighing,  the  shepherd  went  on,  the  soldier  abreast 
of  him. 

"I  have  come  to  redeem  my  pledge,  Benjamin." 

The  other's  face  was  sadly  accusing.  "Here,  on 
these  lonely  hills,  with  only  the  fast- falling  night 
for  a  witness,  and  not  before  the  eyes  of  men?" 


120  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

The  soldier's  face  flushed.  "If  them  meanest  our 
last  meeting  on  the  way  hither,  I  had  thought  thou 
wouldst  understand.  It  was  through  no  information 
furnished  by  me  that  thou  wert  taken,  nor  was  it  by 
my  band.  Naaman  is  Captain  of  the  Host.  I  have 
but  a  few  men  under  me  and  my  authority  is  small. 
I  could  not  help  thee  then.  Besides,  thou  wert  in 
no  personal  danger,  else  I  would  have  risked  it.  It 
was  thy  flock  of  which  Eleazer's  company  was  so 
proud.  They  took  thee  because  the  sheep  knew  thy 
voice  but  a  stranger  would  they  not  follow,  fleeing 
from  any  but  thee." 

A  contemptuous  smile  played  around  Benjamin's 
mouth.  He  unclasped  from  his  wrist  a  broad  gold 
bracelet  and  handed  it  to  Isaac. 

"I  thought  thou  wouldst  be  apt  to  consider  this 
too  costly  a  token,"  he  said. 

A  pained  look  crossed  Isaac's  face.  "I  redeem  it 
with  what  hath  cost  me  more:  the  delight  of  a 
woman's  presence  and  a  woman's  sweetness  and  a 
woman's  wonderful  devotion  which  otherwise  might 
have  been  mine.  I  have  come  to  invite  thee  to  a 
wedding — thine  own  wedding — with  Rachel  of 
Hannathon  in  the  Land  of  Israel." 

The  shepherd  was  plainly  startled.  "Thou  hast 
come  to  ask  me  to  marry  my  betrothed?  I  do  not 
understand." 

"She  was  captured  about  the  time  thou  wert  by 
one  of  the  men  in  my  company,"  the  soldier  ex- 


CONFESSION  121 

plained.  "I  am  glad  to  say  I  was  able  to  save  her 
from  familiarity  at  the  hands  of  the  soldiers — " 

"For  which  I  am  grateful  to  thee,  Isaac." 

"But  three  days'  journey  from  Damascus  she  left 
us  with  another  captive,  a  young  lad  called  'Nathan,' 
being  sore  afraid.  By  accident  I  discovered  her 
hiding-place,  but  knew  not  it  was  the  maid  of  my 
dreams,  she  being  enveloped  in  her  wedding-veil, 
as  I  afterward  learned  it  was.  Nevertheless,  I  dis- 
covered her  identity  in  time  to  soften  the  hardships 
of  the  journey  with  food  and  water,  together  with 
the  leopard's  skin  thou  gavest  me,  her  clothing  being 
insufficient  protection  against  the  cold  winds  which 
swept  down  from  the  Lebanons.  I  was  quite  sure 
the  two  would  come  to  Damascus,  so  I  had  the  gate 
watched  and  word  brought  to  me  of  her  arrival.  She 
appeared  to  be  alone,  the  boy  having  disappeared, 
and  though  she  had  wandered  far  out  of  her  way  in 
the  city,  I  found  her  after  some  search  and  conducted 
her,  as  she  desired,  to  the  street  of  the  merchants  of 
Israel.  Her  kinsman,  however,  whom  we  sought, 
had  died  a  month  before." 

Benjamin's  voice  betrayed  uneasiness.  "And 
then?" 

"And  then  I  found  lodging  for  her  in  the  house 
of  one,  Amos  the  perfumer,  also  of  Israel,  since 
which  time  she  hath  been  there  cared  for,  provided 
with  necessary  raiment  and  awaiteth  thee,  desiring 
that  thou  come  quickly." 


122  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

Benjamin's  attitude  became  questioning.  "It  is 
now  the  height  of  the  rainy  season.  All  this  occurred 
months  ago  and  I  hear  but  now." 

"Thou  art  hearing  as  soon  as  it  was  convenient 
for  me  to  bring  thee  word.  Am  I  in  a  place  of  au- 
thority ?  Do  I  not  come  and  go  at  another's  bidding  ? 
Besides,  it  was  but  little  more  than  a  week  ago  that 
she  told  me  of  the  whispered  conversations  which 
always  break  off  when  she  appeareth,  the  averted 
glances  and,  almost  worse  than  this,  the  pitying  kind- 
ness of  her  friends — " 

The  shepherd's  face  grew  white  and  stern. 
"Then  didst  thou  think  it  was  time  to  send  for  the 
one  who  would  not  fail  her?  I  suppose,  Isaac,  thou 
hast  not  thought  of  marrying  the  maiden — consider- 
ing the  circumstances." 

The  soldier  sought  to  restrain  his  anger.  "I  did," 
he  answered,  "or  at  least  I  would  have  had  it  not 
been  for  another  maiden  to  whom  I  would  have 
found  it  hard  to  explain  matters.  This  other — " 

"I  see  it  all,"  the  shepherd  responded,  bitterly. 
"Having  a  little  authority  and  noting  that  the  maid 
was  fair,  she  was  thy  lawful  prey,  whereas  the 
maiden  who  is  surrounded  by  care  and  affection  thou 
canst  not  bear  to  offend.  My  little  Rachel,  pure  as 
the  snows  of  Hermon,  and  entirely  at  thy  mercy — " 

He  raised  his  stout  staff.  The  soldier  threw  up 
one  arm  to  ward  off  the  blow  but  he  did  not  draw 
the  short  sword  which  hung  at  his  girdle. 


CONFESSION  123 

"Thou  dost  not  let  me  make  myself  clear,"  he  said, 
gently,  "but  thou  shalt  know  for  thyself.  And  an- 
other sorrow  I  have  unwittingly  brought  thee.  At 
the  same  time  that  Rachel  was  taken  by  my  band, 
Miriam  was  also  captured,  although  I  knew  not  she 
was  thy  sister." 

Benjamin  lowered  his  staff,  grief  succeeding  in- 
dignation. "And  what  of  her?  Tell  me." 

"I  have  myself  seen  to  her  welfare,  and  my  er- 
rand here  is  to  tell  thee  of  both  maidens  and  to 
conduct  thee  to  them  that  thou  mayest  assure 
thyself—" 

Benjamin  assented  briefly.  At  that  moment  his 
keen  ear  detected  the  far-off  bleat  of  a  sheep. 
Guided  by  its  cries,  he  made  his  way  to  it  as  quickly 
as  possible  and  with  his  light,  hooked  rod  disen- 
tangled its  wool  from  the  cruel  thorns  which  caught 
and  tore  his  own  flesh  meanwhile.  Catching  the 
forelegs  together  with  one  hand  and  the  hindlegs 
with  the  other,  he  swung  the  exhausted  animal  over 
his  shoulder  and  began  retracing  his  steps.  Isaac 
followed,  a  dozen  times  essaying  to  reopen  the  sub- 
ject upon  which  he  had  come  prepared  to  speak,  and 
a  dozen  times  being  repulsed  by  the  gloom  in  which 
Benjamin  seemed  wrapped. 

They  passed  the  sheep  fold  where  inquiry  had 
earlier  been  made  and  the  shepherd  raised  his  voice 
in  a  shout,  "Rejoice  with  me,  for  I  have  found  my 
sheep  that  was  lost." 


124  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

Arriving  at  last  whence  they  had  started  and  the 
weary  and  injured  animal  tenderly  cared  for,  Isaac 
and  Benjamin  took  opposite  sides  of  the  fire,  each 
preferring  the  company  of  his  own  bitter  thoughts 
to  conversation.  A  recumbent  shepherd  kept  watch 
before  the  door  of  the  fold.  Two  more  slept.  To 
use  the  tongue  of  Israel  would  have  been  to  insure 
privacy  to  the  message,  but  each  waited  for  the  other. 
If  Isaac  were  sufficiently  penitent,  thought  Benjamin, 
he  would  talk  even  though  the  words  came  falter- 
ingly.  As  it  was,  his  errand  was  one  of  expediency 
and  no  real  satisfaction  would  be  gained  by  forcing 
from  his  lips  details  of  the  confession  he  should 
make  voluntarily.  If,  thought  Isaac,  Benjamin 
wished  to  ask  questions,  he  would  answer  them  fully, 
but  why  give  unasked  information  which  was  dis- 
torted and  misunderstood  as  soon  as  uttered  ?  And 
so,  each  nursing  a  sense  of  injury,  the  long  night 
passed. 

A  couple  of  days  were  spent  in  making  prepara- 
tion for  the  care  of  the  flock  while  Benjamin  should 
be  away,  and  the  fourth  they  started  for  Damascus. 
At  dawn  a  gentle  rain  was  falling.  The  substitute 
shepherd  was  delighted.  Since  the  flock  must  re- 
main within  shelter  of  the  fold  while  the  storm 
lasted,  it  were  that  much  easier  cared  for.  To  the 
three  whose  horses  stood  waiting,  the  rain  mattered 
not  at  all.  Benjamin  moved  here  and  there,  giving 
directions  and  making  sure  that  all  was  well  before 


CONFESSION  125 

his  departure.  Once  he  paused  and  took  a  sick  lamb 
in  his  arms: 

"I  go  to  bring  another,"  he  whispered,  tenderly, 
"bruised  and  wounded  as  thou  art,  but  her  spirit, 
like  thine,  shall  be  healed  with  the  oil  of  loving- 
kindness." 

An  hour  later  he  was  riding  across  the  rain- 
soaked  plain,  the  other  horseman  a  little  in  advance, 
the  servant  in  the  rear.  The  two  foremost  were  quite 
unchanged,  the  one  lost  in  the  depths  of  profound 
irritation,  the  other  in  melancholy,  and  neither  speak- 
ing save  when  their  common  errand  made  it  neces- 
sary. 

Miriam  took  an  early  opportunity  of  again  calling 
upon  the  mistress  of  the  household.  She  felt  no 
sense  of  obligation  beyond  her  promise.  The  visit 
was  entirely  a  friendly  one  and  was  so  understood. 
On  the  threshold  she  paused  with  a  bright  smile 
of  greeting,  which  was  cordially  returned.  Enter- 
ing, she  found  a  cushion  of  the  right  height,  threw 
it  upon  the  floor  and  sat  down,  resting  her  arms  con- 
fidingly on  Adah's  lap,  studying  the  face  above  hers. 

"I  have  noticed  how  sad  thou  art,  and  I  think  it 
is  the  way  thy  house  is  built.  Thou  wouldst  not  be 
nearly  so  lonely  if  thy  dwelling  were  like  ours  in 
Israel :  all  in  one  big  room  with  the  animals  in  one 
part  and  the  family  on  a  raised  floor  in  the  other. 
Of  course  thou  hast  too  large  a  household  for  that, 


126  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

but  thou  dost  not  know  how  comforting  it  is  to 
hear  the  animals  stamping  around  in  their  stalls  at 
night  and  on  rainy  days.  Here  it  is  so  quiet  I  can- 
not sleep  sometimes." 

Adah  frequently  did  not  sleep,  but  she  had  never 
attributed  it  to  the  silence. 

"If  thou  couldst  but  rise  early  in  the  morning," 
Miriam  continued  with  animation,  "and  grind  the 
wheat — thou  art  so  rich  thou  couldst  have  an  ass 
or  a  camel  harnessed  to  the  mill  to  do  the  hardest 
part  of  the  work — and  if  thou  couldst  make  up  the 
dough  quickly  and  bake  it  in  cakes  for  thy  family's 
breakfast,  it  would  give  thee  so  much  delight.  Hast 
thou  never  tried  it?" 

"Not  the  pleasure  of  toil,  Miriam,  but  I  have 
sometimes  wondered — " 

"And  if  thou  wouldst  pretend  to  find  fault  be- 
cause thy  bread  is  eaten  so  fast  and  thy  husband 
would  pretend  to  find  fault  because  thou  hast  not 
baked  enough,  and  he  would  caress  thee  and  say 
thou  canst  bake  the  best  bread  to  be  found  in  any 
house  in  Israel — I  mean  in  Syria — it  would  be  such 
joy  to  thee.  Hast  thou  never  known  this?" 

"Not  the  joy  of  service,  Miriam,  but  I  have  often 
thought—" 

"And  if  thou  didst  see  to  the  clothing  of  thy  entire 
household  instead  of  having  Milcah  do  it  for  thee; 
I  mean  the  spinning  and  weaving  and  washing,  and 
couldst  look  after  the  conduct  and  instruction  of  thy 


CONFESSION  127 

men  servants  and  thy  maid  servants.  If,  while  thy 
husband  sits  in  the  gate,  judging  the  cause  of  the 
people,  thou  wert  also  considering  the  needs  of  the 
poor,  thou  wouldst  never  have  time  to  be  sad.  Hast 
thou  never  done  these  things?" 

"Not  enough  to  give  me  the  happiness  of  being 
necessary,  but  I  have  sometimes  envied  those  who 
were." 

Adah  recollected  herself  with  a  start.  To  be  mak- 
ing such  undignified  admissions!  Her  countenance 
settled  back  into  its  old  lines  of  haughty  indifference 
and  Miriam  was  quick  to  notice  the  change.  She 
took  the  older  face  tenderly  between  her  hands  and 
kissed  it,  quite  unaware  that  she  was  not  expected 
to  take  such  liberties.  Her  voice  was  full  of 
pity: 

"Thou  dost  look  so  sorrowful.  I  never  knew  be- 
fore how  much  thou  dost  need  me.  I  can  teach  thee 
so  much.  I  will  show  thee  how  to  be  happy." 

Adah  thought  it  extremely  doubtful,  but  it  would 
have  been  cruel  to  discourage  such  cheerful  confi- 
dence. Besides,  she  saw  a  loophole  of  escape  from 
an  embarrassing  conversation :  "Thou  hast  no  time 
to  give  to  me." 

Miriam  pondered.  "I  will  take  time,"  she  said 
with  decision,  "just  as  much  as  I  can  spare  from 
Isaac  and  Milcah  and  their  mother." 

She  ran  to  the  door  and  looked  appraisingly  at 
the  position  of  the  sun  on  the  courtyard  foliage. 


128  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

"I  must  go  now,"  she  said ;  "it  groweth  late.  See 
how  the  shadows  lengthen?" 

Adah,  left  alone,  smiled,  then  she  sighed.  Alas, 
that  the  sorrow  of  the  House  of  Naaman  should  be 
past  the  little  maid's  generously  offered  assistance, 
past  the  ability  of  the  wisest  men  and  the  greatest 
gods  of  Syria! 


CHAPTER  XII 
UNDERSTANDING 

OUT  on  the  Syrian  plains  three  horsemen  plodded 
steadily  through  the  storm.  At  last  they  halted, 
shivering,  in  the  shelter  of  a  great  rock.  One  went 
about  the  necessary  preparations  for  a  slender  meal, 
another  faced  his  companion  contritely. 

"I  am  so  sorry,  Benjamin.     I — " 

"We  usually  are,  Isaac,  when  we  see  what  sorrow 
is  wrought  by  our  wrongdoing." 

"I  have  been  trying  to  put  myself  in  thy  place, 
Benjamin.  I  can  realize  something  of  what  thou 
hast  suffered.  I  admit  that  it  is  all  my  fault  that — " 

"I  have  never  thought  of  blaming  anyone  else, 
Isaac." 

"I  wish,"  impatiently,  "that  thou  wouldst  let  me 
explain.  I  was  greatly  surprised  that — " 

"I  am  sure  of  it,  Isaac.  We  go  along  doing  what 
we  want  instead  of  what  we  ought,  and  we  are  al- 
ways surprised  when  God's  'Thou  shalt  not'  makes 
us  stop  and  think." 

The  other  made  a  gesture  of  despair.  "Have  I 
lost  thy  confidence  entirely?  If  thou  wouldst  but 
let  me  tell  the  story  instead  of  telling  it  thyself  in 

129 


130  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

thine  own  way,  thou  wouldst  be  better  prepared — " 

"Rachel  and  I  have  been  companions  since  baby- 
hood, Isaac,  and  never  have  I  been  unprepared  for 
her  lightest  wish,  nor  am  I  unprepared  now  for  her 
dire  distress.  As  for  my  sister,  it  will  go  hard  with 
thee  if  thou  hast  allowed  ill  to  come  to  a  child."  He 
closed  his  lips  in  a  way  that  revealed  both  strength 
and  determination. 

The  soldier  faced  him  without  flinching.  "We 
near  Damascus,"  he  said,  coldly,  "and  it  is 
necessary  that  we  speak  of  certain  arrangements. 
We  wish  to  observe  the  usual  customs,  but  our  situa- 
tion is  peculiar :  that  which  is  usually  furnished  by 
the  family  of  the  maiden  we  must  ourselves  provide. 
Rachel  will  need  festive  robes  and  a  veil  and  a  girdle 
and  a  chaplet  for  her  flowing  hair,  not  mentioning 
the  perfumery  and  the  jewels  which  every  bride  de- 
sireth,  and  saying  nothing,  also,  of  thy  festive  robe 
and  nuptial  wreath  and  the  rnyrrh  and  frankincense 
for  thine  adorning." 

The  shepherd  buried  his  face  in  his  hands.  "Not 
once  have  I  thought  of  these  things,  but  only  of  her 
need  of  me.  And  I  a  captive,  without  even  a  trinket 
I  can  sell,  and  my  flock  the  stolen  property  of  an 
enemy!" 

Isaac  tapped  the  bracelet  so  lately  transferred 
from  the  other's  arm  to  his  own.  "I  anticipated 
this  when  I  asked  for  my  pledge.  When  sold,  as  I 
intend  it  shall  be,  it  will  provide  all  and  more,  but 


UNDERSTANDING  131 

I  am  curious  to  know  why  thou  wert  allowed  to  keep 
the  token.  Eleazer's  band  which  took  thee  is  not 
noted  for  its  gentleness  nor  its  generosity." 

"I  know  not  the  reason,  Isaac,  save  that  I  fought 
for  it  once  and  twice  and  thrice  and  was  not  over- 
come." 

His  tone  was  abstracted;  now  it  became  passion- 
ate :  "But  thinkest  thou  I  would  take  so  much  from 
thee — from  thee?" 

Isaac  spoke  soothingly:  "Peradventure  not  for 
my  sake,  Benjamin,  but  for  Rachel — whom  we  both 
love!" 

The  shepherd  looked  up  quickly.  "Love?"  he 
queried,  his  mood  changing  to  contempt.  "But  the 
other  maiden  more." 

Isaac  laughed.  "The  other  maiden — "  All  at 
once  he  became  serious.  "Thou  wilt  understand 
when  I  tell  thee — "  but  a  glance  at  his  companion's 
forbidding  countenance  caused  him  to  shut  his  lips 
in  a  grimness  which  was  not  lost  in  their  short  rest- 
ing time,  nor  in  the  several  miles  which  they  traveled, 
nor  even  in  Damascus  itself.  Only  once  was  there 
speech  between  them  and  that  was  as  they  entered 
the  city  gates. 

It  was  Benjamin  who  broke  the  silence.  "Thou 
hast  told  me  of  Rachel,  but  not  of  my  sister.  Take 
me,  therefore,  first  to  Miriam  that  I  may  know  for 
myself  how  she  fareth." 

Isaac  bent  his  head  stiffly.    "It  is  well,"  he  said, 


132  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

and  led  the  way  to  the  largest  and  most  magnificent 
dwelling  the  shepherd  had  ever  beheld. 

To  her  mistress,  Miriam  spoke  Syrian  as  far  as 
possible;  to  Milcah,  either  Syrian  or  the  speech  of 
Israel,  more  often  a  mixture  of  the  two,  but  to  Mil- 
cah's  mother  it  was  joy  unspeakable  to  use  only  her 
native  tongue.  Unfortunately,  this  pleasure  was 
not  to  last.  The  feeble  strength  waned  fast,  and 
one  morning  Miriam  ran  swiftly  to  Milcah,  implor- 
ing her  to  hasten  to  the  invalid.  She  herself  sped 
to  the  gatekeeper. 

"Do  thou  send  to  the  barracks  and  there  leave 
word  that  Isaac  come  home  as  soon  as  he  arriveth 
in  Damascus.  His  mother — " 

For  reply  the  gatekeeper  pointed  to  the  street. 
In  company  with  two  others  he  was  just  dismount- 
ing. The  gate  was  opened  for  them  and  a  breath- 
less little  figure,  tense  with  excitement,  rushed  into 
his  arms,  unmindful  of  his  companions. 

He  bent  his  head  over  hers  for  a  moment,  listen- 
ing to  her  broken  words,  then,  with  a  courteous  ex- 
planation to  the  stranger,  he  hurried  down  the  court- 
yard and  turned  into  that  in  which  his  mother's  room 
was  located.  Miriam  started  to  follow,  her  mind 
intent  upon  this  new  grief,  but  a  hand  touched  her 
on  the  shoulder  and  she  looked  into  the  brown, 
questioning  face  of  her  brother. 

The  warmth  of  her  welcome  left  him  no  room 


UNDERSTANDING  133 

for  jealousy  of  Isaac.  Both  faces  beamed  as 
genially  as  the  sun,  which  had  finally  succeeded  in 
dispersing  the  clouds  and  drying  up  the  rain  drops. 
She  guided  her  visitor  to  the  spot  that  she  and  Isaac 
liked,  the  seat  under  the  damson  tree  near  the  foun- 
tain. He  gazed  in  wonder  at  his  surroundings,  at 
the  richness  and  beauty  everywhere,  marveling  that 
she  seemed  so  much  at  ease  amid  all  this  mag- 
nificence. It  was  so  different  from  what  he  had 
expected  to  find,  nor  could  he  understand  the  greet- 
ing he  had  just  witnessed  between  herself  and  Isaac. 

"Art  thou  not  afraid  of  the  man  who  took  thee 
captive?"  he  asked. 

Radiant  with  the  happiness  of  her  brother's  com- 
ing and  clinging  to  him  as  if  he  were  a  pleasant 
dream  which  might  be  lost,  she  answered  quite  se- 
renely :  "Afraid  of  Isaac  ?  Nay,  thou  canst  not  fear 
one  who  loveth  someone  thou  dost  love." 

He  thought  she  referred  to  Rachel  and  it  was  like 
the  thrust  of  a  knife. 

"Ever  conscious  is  he,  Benjamin,  of  the  debt  he 
oweth  thee.  He  hath  told  me." 

The  shepherd  was  bitterly  incredulous. 

"Before  thou  seest  Rachel,"  she  went  on,  "I  must 
tell  thee  something  she  knoweth  not  I  have  learned." 

A  stern  look  crept  into  Benjamin's  face. 

"Rachel  liketh  Isaac  very  much  indeed — " 

The  shepherd  paled.  This  possibility  had  not 
occurred  to  him. 


i34  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

"But  I  think  Isaac  liketh  her  not  at  all,  else  he 
would  have  visited  her." 

Benjamin  uttered  an  exclamation,  but  she  was 
too  full  of  the  importance  of  her  discovery  to  pay 
attention.  She  continued  impressively,  looking 
around  to  make  sure  she  was  not  overheard : 

"Not  since  he  found  her,  cold  and  tired  and  hun- 
gry, just  outside  this  wall  one  daybreak  and  con- 
ducted her  to  the  street  of  the  merchants  of  Israel, 
where  Amos  and  Rebekah  took  pity  upon  her  dis- 
tress, never  once  did  she  see  him  until  the  morning 
I  went  with  Milcah  and  we  found  him  talking  to  her 
on  the  footway.  He  had  stopped  just  a  moment  to 
tell  her  that  he  and  his  servant  were  starting  to  bring 
thee.  I  think  he  would  have  done  nothing  for  her 
at  all,  not  even  on  the  way  hither,  if  she  had  not 
been  thy  betrothed.  He  would  not  even  promise  to 
help  her  when  I  first  asked.  Wouldst  thou  not  have 
supposed  he  would  consider  her  as  sweet  and  beau- 
tiful as  thou  dost  and  I?" 

The  shepherd  was  too  bewildered  to  reply  at  once. 
"Art  thou  very  sure  of  what  thou  sayest?"  he  finally 
stammered,  an  odd  excitement  in  his  manner.  "Thy 
words  sound  strange  to  mine  ears.  I  would  hear  all 
thou  knowest,"  and  Miriam  was  very  obliging. 

Beginning  with  the  last  time  he  had  visited  their 
home  in  Israel  (which  had  been  a  few  days  before 
their  parents  went  to  the  feast  at  Jerusalem;  when 
he  and  Rachel  had  come  to  a  full  understanding), 


UNDERSTANDING  135 

she  told  him  all  that  had  befallen  her  and  what  she 
knew  concerning  Rachel.  He  heard  with  varying 
emotions,  and  all  too  soon  Isaac  stood  before  them. 
On  his  face  was  the  dignity  of  sorrow.  The  glad- 
ness died  out  of  Miriam's  countenance;  his  grief 
was  hers.  He  pressed  the  hand  she  slipped  into  his 
and  addressed  Benjamin. 

"My  mother — "  he  began  and  his  voice  broke.  In 
a  moment  he  went  on:  "My  servant  will  conduct 
thee  to  Rachel  and  attend  upon  thee.  After  the  cus- 
tom of  our  people  I  must  remain  in  seclusion  until 
after  our  period  of  mourning  hath  ended.  Never- 
theless, the  House  of  Naaman  is  thine  abode  as  long 
as  thou  art  in  Damascus  and  whenever  thou  comest 
hither.  My  home  is  thine.  And  this  I  give  into 
thy  keeping  for  the  purpose  of  which  we  spoke.  I 
will  instruct  my  servant  regarding  its  disposal." 

He  unclasped  the  bracelet  from  his  arm  and  for 
the  second  time  gave  it  to  the  shepherd,  but  his 
present  manner  bore  no  resemblance  to  the  first. 
Something  of  the  difference  occurred  to  Benjamin. 
He  called  after  the  retreating  figure.  He  ran  and 
placed  himself  before  Isaac,  bowing  low  before  him. 

"Thy  servant  hath  misjudged  thee.  Forgive,  I 
pray  thee.  What  am  I  that  thou  shouldst  show  such 
kindness  unto  me?" 

The  shepherd's  voice  faltered  before  the  other's 
coldly  courteous  manner.  He  went  on  almost 
timidly:  "My  sister  hath  explained  much  that  I 


136  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

could  not  understand  hitherto.  Surprise  and  per- 
plexity hath  gone  and  in  their  stead  hath  come 
shame.  I  would  that  thou  shouldst  overlook — " 

The  cold  steel  of  Isaac's  eye  might  have  been  the 
cold  steel  of  a  weapon  piercing  Benjamin's  heart, 
the  effect  being  much  the  same. 

"Thou  didst  once  save  my  life,  which  is  precious 
unto  me,  and  I  have  given  thee  that  which  is  dearer 
than  thy  life,  thy  betrothed.  The  debt  hath  been 
mutually  repaid.  Henceforth  we  owe  each  other 
nothing." 

Tears  sprang  to  the  shepherd's  eyes.  "Naught 
save  remembrance  and  good  will.  I  would  that  we 
might  both  remember  this  obligation." 

There  was  no  answer  unless  Isaac's  silence  and 
his  averted  head  might  be  construed  in  the  negative. 

Benjamin  tried  again.  "As  thou  didst  once  admit 
thy  guilt  to  me,  so  do  I  now  acknowledge  to  thee 
my  fault  and  plead  my  penitence." 

"It  is  too  late,  Benjamin.  Thou  hast  refused  to 
listen  to  the  confession  I  sought  thee  voluntarily  to 
make.  Thou  hast  assailed  my  motives  with  insult. 
Thou  hast  outraged  every  feeling  of  affection  I  ever 
had  for  thee.  For  the  sake  of  all  that  is  past  we 
must  not  allow  ourselves  to  become  enemies,  but 
friends  we  can  never  be  again." 

The  shepherd  persevered  although  seeming  to  find 
speech  difficult :  "We  are  both  wrong,  Isaac.  Should 
we  permit  the  winds  of  trouble  to  dry  up  the  foun- 


UNDERSTANDING  137 

tain  of  loving  kindness  and  to  scatter  abroad  the 
waters  of  bitterness?  Captivity  filleth  my  mind 
with  suspicion.  Resentment  causeth  thee  to  hate. 
Is  it  right?" 

Isaac  stood  immovable,  without  speaking. 
Miriam,  where  they  had  left  her,  ceased  her  weeping 
and  running  to  where  the  two  stood  slipped  a  hand 
in  each  of  theirs. 

"I  shall  be  so  lonely  now  that  Isaac's  mother  hath 
gone.  Thou  wilt  stay  in  Damascus  as  long  as  thou 
canst,  wilt  thou  not,  Benjamin?" 

He  sought  to  comfort  her,  yet  he  could  not  leave 
his  duties  longer  than  was  necessary.  He  would 
go  to  Rachel  now,  the  arrangements  would  be  made 
for  their  marriage  according  to  the  customs  of  Is- 
rael, and  after  the  formal  betrothal  feast  he  would 
hurry  back  to  his  flock  because  it  was  with  an  hire- 
ling who  cared  not  for  the  sheep.  When  the  rainy 
season  ended  he  would  return  to  Damascus  for  his 
bride  and  take  her  to  the  home  he  would  prepare 
meanwhile.  The  present  arrangements  would  con- 
sume but  a  few  days.  "But  when  I  am  no  longer 
here  I  shall  think  of  thee  as  still  being  brave,  shall 
I  not,  Miriam?" 

"Yea,"  she  said,  tremulously.  "Thou  wilt  have 
sad  enough  meditations,  longing  for  Rachel  and 
thinking  of  our  home  in  Israel  and  of  father  and 
mother."  There  was  a  long  pause.  "But  thou  must 
not  grieve  over  me.  At  first  I  thought  I  should  die 


138  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

here,  until  I  knew  that  somebody  loved  me.  Now 
Milcah  doth  a  little,  and  I  think  my  mistress  will,  but 
I  have  never  had  to  wonder  about  Isaac.  He  always 
hath.  He  will  watch  over  me  as  thou  wouldst." 

She  leaned  confidingly  against  the  soldier  and  he 
slipped  his  arm  around  her :  "The  heart  of  my  little 
maid  can  safely  trust  in  me,"  he  assured  her. 
Then,  to  Benjamin:  "Behold,  the  other  maid  of 
whom  we  spoke." 

Miriam  looked  up  wonderingly,  not  understand- 
ing Benjamin's  embarrassment  nor  Isaac's  defiance, 
but  neither  troubled  her.  She  smiled  upon  them  im- 
partially. "And  what  hath  made  it  easy  for  me  to 
love  Isaac,"  she  went  on,  "is  because  he  loveth  thee 
so  much,  Benjamin.  It  hath  made  me  so  happy. 
Else  I  could  not  bear  things  even  now." 

She  was  caressing  their  two  hands,  holding  them 
to  her  cheeks  and  patting  them ;  thus  she  failed  to 
see  that  each  young  man  avoided  the  other's  eye. 

"I  love  thee  both  so  very  much,"  she  confided. 

They  each  smiled  down  upon  her  indulgently,  and 
somehow  their  eyes  met — with  the  smile  still  in 
them,  and  this  time  they  did  not  turn  away.  Oddly 
enough  the  coldness,  the  constraint  faded  before 
that  look  as  snow  disappears  before  the  genial 
warmth  of  the  sun.  They  parted  in  a  manner  quite 
satisfactory  to  the  little  maid,  who  beamed  upon 
them  both.  Suspicion  and  resentment  had  fled  be- 
fore the  affectionate  trust  of  a  child ! 


CHAPTER  XIII 
CHANGES 

THE  death  of  Milcah's  mother  made  changes  in 
the  House  of  Naaman.  Adah,  its  mistress,  was  in- 
consolable, not  with  grief  but  with  vexation. 

"So  Milcah  will  sit  on  the  floor  for  a  whole  week 
and  mourn!  Of  course  I  wish  her  to  treat  her 
mother's  memory  with  respect.  I  am  myself  willing 
to  pay  for  the  mourning  men  and  mourning  women. 
I  will  provide  the  spices  and  linen  in  which  the  body 
is  to  be  wrapped.  I  will  even  have  it  laid  in  the 
rocky  tomb  her  people  prefer,  but  I  cannot  go  with- 
out bathing  and  dressing  for  a  week.  Who  will  see 
to  my  raiment  and  my  perfumes?" 

To  Miriam,  who  had  brought  the  message,  this 
was  a  very  simple  matter.  "Thou  hast  so  many 
servants,"  she  began,  but  her  mistress  interrupted 
irritably : 

"Thinkest  thou  Milcah  would  instruct  any  who 
might  supplant  her?  Nay,  for  jealous  is  she  and 
sour  of  disposition,  hence  doth  she  keep  both  my 
maidens  and  me  dependent  upon  her." 

Miriam  was  genuinely  distressed.  "Milcah  is 
not  young  and  much  pain  doth  she  suffer  at  times, 
for  she  hath  told  me.  Oft  hath  she  waited  upon  thee 
when  naught  but  determination  urged  her  tired  f  oot- 

139 


140  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

steps.  Many  times  have  I  wondered  what  will  be- 
come of  her  when  she  is  unable  to  work." 

"She  will  be  taken  care  of,  as  was  her  mother, 
and  in  place  of  a  daughter  thou  shalt  attend  upon 
her." 

The  little  maid  clasped  her  hands.  "Then  will  I 
be  able  to  show  how  I  love  her.  Thinkest  thou  she 
will  let  me  make  her  hair  look  prettier?  When  Ra- 
chel, the  maiden  to  whom  my  brother  Benjamin  is 
betrothed,  was  sick  many  weeks  I  waited  upon  her 
continually." 

Adah  surveyed  the  small  figure  doubtfully. 
"Thinkest  thou  the  duties  of  the  bath-chamber 
would  be  too  much  for  thee  with  older  maids  to 
help?" 

Miriam  thought  not,  and  with  enthusiasm  began 
a  week  which  ended  all  too  quickly,  for  Milcah 
resumed  her  old  duties  when  the  period  of  mourn- 
ing was  past.  With  fine  delicacy  the  little  maid  ab- 
sented herself  entirely  from  the  apartments  of  her 
mistress,  but  when  three  days  had  elapsed  she  was 
sent  for. 

Adah  surveyed  her  with  a  half  displeasure.  "Why 
dost  thou  not  come  without  being  commanded? 
Knowest  thou  not  that  I  have  found  thee  teachable 
and  quick  and  have  determined  to  make  thee  one 
of  my  handmaidens?  Already  have  I  talked  with 
Milcah,  and  she  is  not  displeased,  nor  will  she  keep 
from  thee  knowledge  that  will  be  of  use  when  thou 


CHANGES  141 

art  older.  Hear  thou?  She  calleth  thee.  Thou 
mayest  go." 

The  older  woman  beamed  upon  her.  "I  see  by  thy 
face  thou  hast  heard.  Young  art  thou  to  find  such 
favor  in  the  sight  of  thy  mistress,  and  much  will  I 
have  to  teach  thee,  but  that  thou  shouldst  be  chosen 
for  such  honor  doeth  credit  to  my  instruction." 

Thus  did  it  come  about  that  Miriam  became  neces- 
sary to  the  House  of  Naaman,  and  in  gladness  of 
heart  she  began  that  very  day  to  fill  the  place  she 
had  won  for  herself. 

Far  away  the  sun  had  begun  to  shine  also  for  an- 
other heart.  A  month  after  the  Syrian  raid  Sarah 
was  still  upon  her  bed,  a  little  paler,  a  little  weaker 
every  day.  Judith  had  been  her  faithful  attendant, 
and  so  it  happened  that  when  Abner  came,  as  he 
had  promised,  to  ask  the  girl  at  the  hands  of  her 
kinswoman,  there  had  been  no  opposition.  The 
betrothal  "feast"  had  been  held  minus  the  usual 
festivity,  the  pall  of  melancholy  having  settled  upon 
the  tiny  "city"  of  Hannathon.  Also,  the  principals 
to  this  strange  alliance  were  not  popular.  Lastly, 
there  was  nothing  to  feast  upon,  the  daily  rations, 
doled  out  by  Abner,  being  barely  sufficient  to  keep 
the  people  alive. 

A  few  weeks  later,  as  was  the  custom,  Judith 
went  to  the  home  of  her  husband,  whither  she  would 
have  removed  Sarah  but  for  vigorous  objection. 


142  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

"If  they  should  return  and  find  the  dwelling 
closed — "  said  the  woman.  "Nay,  but  here  must  I 
remain,"  and  no  argument  availed  to  change  her  de- 
cision. 

Thus  it  had  come  about  that  Eli  had  gone  to  dwell 
with  Sarah  in  place  of  the  son  and  daughter  she  had 
lost,  and  Abner,  upon  Judith's  insistence,  sent  a 
maid  servant  to  care  for  her  in  Judith's  stead.  Eli 
was  Sarah's  one  stay  and  comfort.  He  treated  her 
precisely  as  he  would  his  own  mother,  sustaining  her 
feeble  strength  largely  by  his  own  cheery  courage 
and  unfailing  hopefulness.  Under  his  tender  min- 
istry she  had  begun  to  grow  stronger.  The  time  had 
come  when  she  no  longer  kept  to  her  bed. 

"I  must  live  to  welcome  them  when  they  come 
back,"  she  told  him,  and  he  turned  his  head  to  hide 
a  tear  of  pity. 

Never  did  she  tire  of  planning  for  the  journey  he 
should  some  time  take  to  ransom  the  captives,  al- 
though both  clearly  apprehended  the  difficulties  first 
to  be  overcome.  "Yet  will  we  trust  in  Jehovah,"  he 
assured  her,  confidently,  "and  he  shall  bring  it  to 
pass." 

The  first  obstacle  was  removed  when  Abner,  re- 
turning from  a  short  pilgrimage  with  seed  for  sow- 
ing his  fields,  agreed  with  Eli  that  the  latter  should 
work  on  his  land  for  wages,  the  same  to  be  collected 
at  harvest  time.  The  second  obstacle  yielded  when 
Nathan,  ragged  and  weary  but  rejoicing,  arrived  in 


CHANGES  143 

Hannathon.  Finding  that  his  mother's  home  was 
closed,  he  had  come  at  once  to  Sarah's,  and  however 
doubtful  his  tidings  it  had  been  eagerly  received: 
Rachel  had  reached  Damascus.  At  this  very  mo- 
ment she  was  doubtless  enjoying  the  peace  and 
plenty  of  her  kinsman's  abode.  Miriam  had  been 
well  treated  on  the  journey  and  had  borne  up 
bravely.  Of  Benjamin  he  knew  nothing  at  all  and 
the  mother  wept  afresh. 

To  Eli  the  important  thing,  next  after  the  safety 
of  his  brother,  was  that  he  now  knew  the  name  of  the 
soldier  in  charge  of  the  party.  Isaac,  once  found, 
could  tell  him  the  whereabouts  of  the  captives.  But 
surprise  was  not  confined  to  the  dwelling  of  Sarah 
nor  yet  to  the  abode  of  Rachel's  parents.  It  was  also 
present  in  the  House  of  Abner.  The  master  had 
brought  the  mistress  a  most  unexpected  gift :  a  pearl 
of  great  price  which  he  had  not  sold  for  seed,  as  she 
had  supposed. 

"The  grapes  and  olives  be  surety  for  that  where- 
with I  am  to  sow,  and  because  thou  hast  been  pru- 
dent and  far-seeing  I  return  unto  thee  the  jewel 
given  thee  by  thy  father.  Behold,  thou  hast  what  is 
thine  own,  yet  none  but  thou  and  I  shall  know,  lest 
it  be  stolen  from  thee." 

Judith,  receiving  the  gift  with  smiling  thanks, 
frowned  when  Abner  had  departed.  Throwing  the 
pearl  upon  the  floor  she  stamped  her  foot :  "Thus 
hath  our  deeds  power  to  follow  and  torment  us! 


144  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

Thou,"  addressing  the  jewel,  "hast  served  thy  pur- 
pose. Why  comest  thou  back  to  me  like  a  spirit  from 
the  sepulcher  to  remind  and  to  mock,  yea  to  be  ever 
unto  me  like  a  live  coal  in  my  bosom?" 

It  had  been  late  autumn  when  Miriam  came  to 
Syria ;  but  winter  rains  were  now  over  and  Damas- 
cus rejoiced  in  an  absence  of  dampness  and  chill, 
nor  had  the  extreme  heat  come  on  with  its  irritating 
dust.  The  charm  of  one  day  had  not  faded  when 
another  began,  but  the  nameless  gloom  which  al- 
ways hovered  over  the  House  of  Naaman  had  not 
lifted,  and  Miriam  pondered  much. 

All  this  time  she  had  never  seen  the  master  of 
the  house,  but,  running  across  the  courtyard  one 
morning,  she  met  him  face  to  face  and  bowed  low. 
She  knew  him  by  his  splendid  dress,  his  air  of  au- 
thority, the  deference  paid  him  by  the  numerous 
servants  moving  here  and  there.  When  he  had 
passed  she  staggered  back  against  the  wall,  faint 
with  horror,  vainly  seeking  to  erase  from  memory 
what  she  had  witnessed.  Now  she  knew  why  he 
had  not  braved  the  inclemency  of  the  weather  here- 
tofore. It  was  leprosy! 

Her  errand  forgotten,  the  little  maid  went  di- 
rectly to  her  mistress,  out  of  breath  with  haste.  Im- 
pulsively she  clasped  between  her  own  the  hand  she 
had  thought  so  white  and  idle. 

"Not  until  this  moment,  my  mistress,  did  I  know 


CHANGES  145 

that  thou  art  grieved.  I  thought  thou  wert  lonely  in 
this  big  house,  but  I  have  beheld  the  reason  for  thy 
sorrow.  Oh,  my  mistress,  would  God  that  my  lord 
were  with  the  prophet  that  is  in  Samaria,  for  he 
would  recover  him  of  his  leprosy !" 

Adah,  wife  of  Naaman,  looked  down  upon  the 
flushed  and  eager  figure  kneeling  beside  her  and 
gently  drew  away  her  hand.  She  was  not  insensible 
of  the  kindness  intended,  but  it  was  so  futile. 

In  vain  Miriam  told  her  of  the  miracle  which  had 
saved  Hannah's  sons  from  bondage  and  of  many 
another  wrought  by  the  Man  of  God  who  dwelt  in 
Israel,  but  her  words  fell  upon  an  unbelieving  heart. 
Wonderful  was  it,  thought  Adah,  to  have  the  un- 
questioning belief  of  youth  before  experience  dis- 
illusions, yet  how  absurd  to  suppose  that  what  Rim- 
mon  and  Baal  and  Chemosh  and  a  host  of  other  gods 
could  not  do,  even  though  Naaman  had  offered  rich 
gifts,  could  be  accomplished  by  this  almost  unheard 
of  Jehovah!  Nay,  it  were  impossible,  and  lest 
fruitless  expectation  be  aroused  and  a  fresh  disap- 
pointment experienced,  she  would  say  nothing  to  her 
husband  of  this  well-meant  but  wholly  impossible 
suggestion. 

It  was,  however,  to  reach  Naaman's  ears  a  few 
days  later  and  in  another  manner.  Miriam  spoke  to 
Isaac  about  the  matter  and  urged  it  with  vehemence. 
He  could  not  resist  her  pleading,  but  he  was  reluc- 
tant, doubtful. 


146  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

"Yea,  I  will  tell  him  all  thou  sayest,  but  he  hath 
tried  so  many  things  so  many  times  I  fear  he  will 
not  heed." 

Isaac  was,  however,  mistaken.  Naaman,  com- 
mander-in-chief  of  the  armies  of  Syria  and  popular 
hero,  was  accustomed  to  solicitude.  To  him  it 
seemed  neither  unusual  nor  audacious  that  a  small 
maid  servant  should  have  suggested  a  means  of  re- 
lief from  the  awful  malady  which  was  slowly  sap- 
ping his  strength.  He  paid  it  the  compliment  of  a 
brief  consideration,  wholly  untouched  by  the  hope- 
lessness of  his  wife  or  the  hesitancy  of  his  favorite 
man  servant,  with  both  of  whom  he  spoke  concern- 
ing it. 

Small  matter  that  this  Jehovah  whom  she  named 
was  little  known  and  probably  much  less  power- 
ful than  she  believed.  He  had  long  suspected — and 
who  would  not  among  so  many  gods? — that  latent 
abilities  sometimes  resided  in  the  most  unlikely.  In 
favorable  circumstances  who  could  tell  ?  Neverthe- 
less, it  was  a  long  journey  to  Israel  and  in  his  con- 
dition a  painful  one.  Besides,  there  were  other 
plans,  suggested  by  people  for  whose  judgment  he 
had  the  greatest  respect,  which  could  not  be  discoun- 
tenanced in  favor  of  one  so  vague.  Nay,  he  would 
try  remedies  closer  at  hand. 

Isaac  bowed  and  withdrew,  dreading  the  message 
he  must  carry  to  Miriam.  He  told  her  with  compas- 
sion in  his  face,  his  voice,  his  manner,  yet  with  an 


CHANGES  147 

attempt  at  cheerfulness  which  deceived  neither  of 
them. 

After  a  little  she  turned  the  head  which  had  been 
averted.  "Isaac,  believest  thou?" 

He  hesitated,  then  hit  upon  a  happy  expedient.  "I 
believe  thee,  little  maid." 

"Wouldst  thou  be  pleased  to  do  whatever  thou 
canst  for  me,  Isaac?" 

There  was  a  flash  of  amusement  on  the  young 
man's  countenance.  "Knowest  thou,  Miriam,  thou 
wilt  soon  be  a  woman?  Already  thou  art  akin  to 
her  thou  shalt  be."  He  reached  into  the  flowering 
tree  above  their  heads  and  broke  off  a  small  branch. 
"Even  as  this  beauty  is  the  delight  of  our  eyes,  so 
art  thou  the  delight  of  my  heart.  I  swear  it.  See,  I 
bind  these  flowers  upon  that  heart  in  token  of  my 
fealty.  There  shall  they  remain,  and  though  they 
wither,  that  for  which  they  stand  shall  never  die. 
Needst  thou  other  assurance?" 

But  she  was  not  laughing.  "Believest  thou  in  Je- 
hovah, Isaac?" 

"Was  I  not  taught  so  to  believe,  Miriam?" 

She  sighed.  "If  Eli  were  only  here  to  make  thee 
understand !  But  when  thou  believest  Jehovah  as 
thou  believest  me,  then  wilt  thou  speak  to  thy  master 
with  boldness  and  insistence  and  he  will  hear." 

Isaac  patted  her  cheeks.  "I  am  not  sure,  Miriam, 
but  that  I  have  known  Jehovah,  at  least  as  long  as 
I  have  known  thee.  Be  very  courageous,  little  maid. 


148  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

Thy  plea  shall  yet  save  thy  master,"  but  neither 
knew  how  long  a  time  must  first  elapse,  nor  that  this 
same  unselfish  entreaty  would  some  day  cause  inter- 
national complications. 

In  the  meanwhile  an  event  occurred  which,  at  least 
temporarily,  banished  the  subject  from  Miriam's 
mind.  Rachel  became  legally  Benjamin's  wife. 
With  all  the  lavish  display  and  elaborate  ceremony 
of  the  East  they  were  married.  That  is  to  say,  the 
bridegroom  walked  three  times  around  the  bride  ere 
he  lifted  the  detachable  portion  of  the  heavy  "veil" 
(really  a  thick  garment  enveloping  her  from  head 
to  foot)  and  threw  it  over  his  shoulder  as  a  token 
that  he  accepted  the  government  of  this  woman.  In 
so  doing  the  bride's  blushing  face  was  exposed  to 
the  fond  gaze  of  her  husband  and  the  curious  looks 
of  their  assembled  friends. 

Following  this  the  guests  broke  into  song,  ac- 
companying themselves  with  timbrels,  tabrets,  cym- 
bals, and  the  clapping  of  hands.  There  was  no 
priest,  no  religious  observance,  nothing  but  this  pub- 
lic demonstration,  but  it  was  considered  sufficient 
and  binding.  The  "sweet  singer"  now  came  for- 
ward. As  a  matter  of  fact,  he  did  not  "sing"  as  we 
understand  the  term,  but  recited  in  a  monotonous, 
sing-song  voice,  composing  his  production  as  he  went 
along.  First  he  recounted  the  charms  of  the  bride, 
calling  attention  to  her  physical  beauty  with  such 


CHANGES  149 

detail  and  fulsome  praise  that  Rachel,  with  burning 
cheeks,  kept  her  eyes  cast  down,  ashamed  to  look 
anyone  in  the  face.  Then  he  told  of  her  modesty, 
her  amiability,  her  industry,  her  frugality,  and  a 
host  of  other  virtues,  real  and  imaginary. 

After  the  bride's  personality  had  been  dissected, 
so  to  speak,  the  sweet  singer  turned  to  the  bride- 
groom and  did  the  same  for  him,  to  Benjamin's  great 
disgust  and  Isaac's  would-be-concealed  amusement. 
The  principals  having  been  disposed  of,  the  inde- 
fatigable singer  turned  his  attention  to  each  of  the 
guests  in  turn,  reciting  their  eminent  history  and 
complimenting  their  virtues  at  as  great  length  as 
the  singer's  knowledge  extended  or  his  imagination 
could,  at  a  moment's  notice,  supply.  For  a  whole 
week  the  celebration  lasted.  The  street  of  the  mer- 
chants of  Israel  rejoiced  loudly  and  there  were  flow- 
ing wines  (at  Isaac's  expense)  and  much  gluttony 
and  revelry. 

The  happy  occasion  ended  with  a  night-time  pro- 
cession through  the  streets  of  Damascus,  accompa- 
nied once  more  by  the  usual  music  of  timbrels, 
tabrets,  cymbals1  and  the  clapping  of  hands;  the 
usual  lamps  and  torches  carried  by  each  individual 
to  light  the  dark  streets  and  add  to  the  festive  ap- 
pearance; the  usual  waiting  crowds  to  shower  con- 


JA  timbrel  was  an  instrument  similar  to  our  modern  tambourine.  A  tabret 
was  the  progenitor  of  our  modern  drum,  though  smaller.  Cymbals  were  the 
same  to  which  we  are  accustomed. 


150  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

gratulations  and  good  wishes  upon  the  happy  couple. 
The  route  should  have  been  from  the  home  of  the 
bride  to  that  of  the  bridegroom.  In  this  case  it  was 
from  the  abode  of  Amos,  in  a  long  and  circuitous 
march,  back  to  it  again.  Miriam,  sole  representa- 
tive of  the  bridegroom's  family,  at  the  head  of  the 
chosen  maidens,  escorted  Rachel  to  the  bridal  cham- 
ber. This  happened  to  be  the  guest  room  on  the 
roof,  which  had  been  decked  with  flowers  and  ren- 
dered sweet  with  perfumes. 

By  this  act  public  notice  was  served  that  the  bride 
had  been  willingly  received  into  the  heart  and  home 
of  her  husband.  Shortly  thereafter,  the  bridegroom 
was  left  at  the  door  of  the  dwelling  by  Isaac,  head- 
ing the  young  men,  and  the  public  expressions  of  fe- 
licity were  now  complete.  The  next  day  came  the 
leave-taking.  Rebekah  and  her  friend  wept  co- 
piously. Milcah  smiled  upon  Rachel  with  the  most 
perfect  cordiality  and  approval.  Rachel  herself  and 
Miriam  were  both  very  misty-eyed  as  they  bade  each 
other  farewell.  Isaac  and  Benjamin  held  a  brief 
but  earnest  conversation  in  which  all  traces  of 
former  misunderstandings  seemed  completely  oblit- 
erated, and  Amos  lifted  his  hands  and  voice  in 
blessing  as  the  newly  married  pair  mounted  patient 
asses  and  started  alone  into  the  hills  of  Syria  to  set 
up  that  most  important  of  all  sanctuaries,  a  home. 


CHAPTER  XIV 
DECISION 

Two  years  went  by  and  Miriam  passed  her 
twelfth  birthday.  Thereafter  she  was  no  longer 
known  as  "the  little  maid"  save  as  a  title  of  affection 
still  retained  by  her  mistress,  Milcah,  and  Isaac, 
but  referred  to  in  terms  which  meant  "a  young 
woman."  Insensibly  her  manners  grew  quieter.  No 
longer  did  she  impulsively  speak  her  mind  to  Adah, 
nor  bound  unexpectedly  into  Milcah's  arms,  nor  in- 
dulge in  the  old,  familiar  caresses  where  Isaac  was 
concerned,  although  she  could  not  have  explained 
these  changes  any  more  than  she  could  have  given  a 
reason  for  being  taller  and  prettier,  as  she  was  told 
she  was.  Day  by  day  she  was  becoming  gently 
reserved  and  charmingly  shy  and  elusively  sweet  as 
maidens  are  wont  to  be. 

Two  more  years  went  by  and  spring  came  again, 
the  fourth  since  Miriam  had  come  to  Syria  and  the 
third  since  she  had  first  urged  the  visit  of  her  master 
to  Israel.  More  and  more  had  she  become  a  neces- 
sary part  of  the  great  household  which  had  at  first 
been  indifferent.  Her  time  was  now  spent  largely 
in  the  apartments  of  her  mistress,  or  in  attendance 
upon  that  lady  when  she  overlooked  the  affairs  of 
the  house  or  rode  in  her  chariot.  A  few  times  had 


152  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

she  visited  the  House  of  Rimmon,  the  sun-god  of 
the  Syrians,  but  because  it  distressed  her  this  was 
not  always  required.  On  several  occasions  had  she 
been  to  the  palace  and,  with  Milcah,  quite  often  saw 
the  tradespeople  and  helped  make  selections  of  mer- 
chandise for  her  mistress. 

Yet  these  years,  so  eventful  to  Miriam,  had 
brought  little  change  to  the  House  of  Naaman  save, 
if  possible,  to  deepen  its  gloom.  Adah  had  grown 
more  languid,  more  petulant,  more  sad.  The  little 
maid  had  not  taught  her  how  to  be  happy  as  she  had 
so  cheerfully  promised.  Naaman,  still  demon- 
strating the  futility  of  one  remedy  after  another, 
was  plainly  growing  worse.  Each  winter  the  rains 
had  washed  out  the  roads  and  made  traveling  as 
far  as  Israel  an  utter  impossibility.  Each  spring, 
when  the  dry  season  set  in  once  more,  Miriam  had 
entreated  her  mistress,  appealed  to  Isaac  and  been 
disappointed  afresh  at  the  rejection  of  her  plan. 
Still  she  hoped  and  grew  patient. 

Once  more  she  pressed  her  query,  tenderly, 
anxiously,  without  receiving  an  answer.  She  knelt 
beside  her  mistress,  despairing,  insistent.  "Know- 
est  thou  not  that  my  lord  is  no  better  and  that  Je- 
hovah thinketh  upon  thy  sorrow  ?  Oh  that  he  would 
go  to  the  prophet  that  is  in  Samaria !" 

Caressingly  Adah  took  Miriam's  face  between  her 
hands  and  looked  at  her  through  tear-blurred  eyes. 
"All  that  I  possess  would  I  give,  little  maid,  for  the 


DECISION  153 

confidence  of  youth,  but  even  as  the  ruthless  rains 
wash  away  the  footpaths,  so  doth  Experience,  in  the 
autumn  and  winter  of  life,  steal  away  courage  and 
joy.  Yea,  well  I  know  that  thy  master's  malady 
groweth  worse,  but  what  availeth  a  long  and  painful 
journey  with  disappointment  at  its  end?" 

Finding  that  neither  argument  nor  persuasion 
availed,  Miriam  abandoned  the  subject  and  waited 
until  she  should  be  able  to  see  Isaac.  The  next  day 
she  was  fortunate  in  having  speech  with  him  just 
before  he  was  summoned  to  his  master's  apartments. 
Briefly  she  outlined  the  last  conversation  with  her 
mistress  and  its  hopelessness. 

"But  because  thou  dwellest  in  his  favor,  Isaac, 
speak  thou  unto  him  yet  again  that  he  perish  not.  Be- 
lievest  thou  that  Jehovah  can  do  this?  Believest 
thou,  Isaac?" 

"Yea,"  looking  into  the  serious  depths  of  her  dark 
eyes,  "yea,  Miriam,  I  believe." 

The  time  was  auspicious.  The  burden  of  dis- 
comfort which  Naaman  had  borne  so  long  had  be- 
come irritating,  loathsome,  intolerable.  If,  by  en- 
during a  little  more,  he  could  end  it  forever — yea, 
he  would  take  the  journey  to  Israel.  It  was  a  for- 
lorn hope,  but  he  would  risk  it. 

Breathless  with  haste,  Isaac  paused  a  brief  instant 
before  Miriam.  He  chose  to  be  very  mysterious. 
"What  wouldst  thou,  little  maid,  if  thou  couldst 
have  thy  choice?" 


154  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

Expectantly  she  searched  his  radiant  countenance 
and  caught  the  gayety  of  his  mood.  "Not  fruit  nor 
flowers;  not  silken  garments,  nor  fine  linen,  nor 
choice  food,  for  thus  sumptuously  do  I  fare  every 
day.  Not  even  a  new  timbrel,  for  that  thou  didst 
give  me  when  I  was  but  a  little  maid  is  beautiful 
with  ivory  and  mother-of-pearl.  Naught  have  I  to 
wish  for  save  that  my  master  should  seek  Jehovah 
through  the  Man  of  God  who  dwelleth  at  Samaria." 

"Then  thou  hast  thy  desire.    He  goeth !" 

"When?"  she  asked,  excitedly. 

The  soldier  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "Our  mas- 
ter's impatience  brooketh  no  delay,  as  thou  wilt 
know  from  knowing  him,  but  he  must  first  obtain 
the  king's  permission  and  the  king's  credentials  ere 
he  dare  venture  into  another  kingdom  to  ask  a 
favor  of  a  monarch  with  whose  house  Syria  hath 
been  time  and  again  at  war." 

Miriam  was  dismayed,  incredulous.  It  had  seemed 
such  a  simple  matter  to  her. 

Isaac  smiled.  "Thou  dost  not  consider  how  great 
a  man  is  our  master.  Knowest  thou  not  it  is  an  af- 
fair of  state?" 

He  left  her  and  she  ran  with  swift  footsteps  to 
tell  the  glad  news  to  Milcah  and  then,  with  greater 
deliberation,  to  speak  of  it  to  her  mistress. 

Next  morning  the  household  was  early  astir.  The 
general  air  of  excitement  precluded  sleep  to  even 
the  most  laggard,  yet  why  this  straw  of  relief  ap- 


DECISION  155 

peared  more  able  to  bear  the  weight  of  their  longings 
than  previous  efforts  no  one  could  have  told,  nor, 
indeed,  did  they  pause  to  ask.  None,  at  least,  save 
Miriam.  At  the  top  of  the  stone  staircase  which 
led  to  the  roof  she  unexpectedly  met  Isaac.  He 
greeted  her  gayly. 

"All  is  well,  little  maid,  so  far.  To-day  I  go  to 
the  palace  to  request  an  audience  for  my  master 
with  the  king." 

"Thinkest  thou,  Isaac,  that  he  will  approve  the 
journey?" 

"The  thoughts  of  a  king,  Miriam,  are  past  finding 
out,  but  we  have  a  good  omen." 

He  pointed  to  the  opal  sky,  beautiful  in  its  sunrise 
tints.  "Seest  thou?  As  the  Syrians  say,  our  all- 
conquering  lord,  the  Sun,  goeth  forth  from  his 
habitation  with  smiles  to  the  arms  of  the  virgin  East 
who  haileth  his  approach  with  blushes." 

Miriam  pointed  to  the  distant  mountains.  "Seest 
thou  the  good  omen  ?  No  haze  shrouds  them  from 
our  view,  but  even  as  they  stand  immovable  and  pro- 
tecting, so  Jehovah  is  ever  a  shield  round  about  his 
people.  The  rosy  sky,  against  which  the  mountains 
show  dark  and  clear,  reminds  us  that  our  hope  is  in 
the  Lord  our  God  who  only  giveth  us  the  victory." 

The  soldier  stood  abashed,  but  in  his  eyes  there 
dawned  a  something  which  was  akin  to  reverence 
and  more.  The  girl,  catching  the  look  quite  acci- 
dentally, flushed  as  prettily  as  the  sky  they  had  been 


156  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

watching  and  fled  instinctively,  even  as  she  won- 
dered why  she  did  these  things.  Yet  she  did  not  seek 
explanations  of  anyone. 

With  armament  resplendent  and  an  obsequious 
group  of  soldier-attendants,  as  befitted  the  impor- 
tance of  the  mission,  Isaac  was  dispatched  to  the 
palace.  Having  passed  the  gatekeeper  and  been 
conducted  across  two  or  three  courtyards  to  the  en- 
trance of  the  king's  residence  proper,  the  guard  sud- 
denly stood  at  attention  while  Isaac  found  himself 
in  the  presence  of  the  chief  officer  of  the  palace. 

Each  bowed  to  the  ground,  exclaiming,  "Peace  be 
unto  thee."  Three  times  this  was  repeated. 

Each  then  put  his  hand  to  his  heart,  which  was 
meant  to  say,  "My  heart  meditates  upon  thee." 

Each  next  put  his  hands  to  his  lips  as  if  to  say, 
"My  lips  speak  well  of  thee." 

Finally,  each  put  his  hand  to  his  forehead,  which 
conveyed  the  flattering  intelligence,  "My  intellect  de- 
lights in  thee." 

Lastly  they  fell  upon  each  other's  neck  and  em- 
braced fervently. 

These  civilities  over,  they  stooped  and  rested  in 
the  comfortable  Oriental  fashion  while  they  held 
converse.  My  lord  high  officer  inquired  for  his 
visitor's  grandfather.  Instead  of  replying  truthfully 
that  he  was  long  since  dead,  diplomacy  required  that 
Isaac  relate  a  tale  of  courage  and  honor,  whether 


DECISION  157 

true  or  untrue,  which  he  ascribed  to  the  other's 
grandfather. 

Well  pleased  with  the  compliment,  my  lord  high 
officer  inquired  for  Isaac's  father,  with  the  same  re- 
sult. Next,  my  lord  high  officer  inquired  for  Isaac's 
master  and  attributed  to  him  deeds  of  valor  which 
Isaac  entirely  disclaimed  for  Naaman,  pronouncing 
blessings  upon  the  other's  master,  the  king. 

By  degrees  and  after  a  considerable  time  had 
elapsed,  the  moment  was  opportune  for  the  delivery 
of  Isaac's  message.  He  had  come  to  request  an  au- 
dience of  King  Ben-hadad  for  his  master,  Naaman. 
My  lord  high  officer  was  politely  kind.  He  would 
see  that  the  message  was  conveyed  to  his  master, 
the  king,  and  in  the  course  of  a  few  days  an  answer 
would  be  returned.  Although  his  real  errand  was 
now  completed,  Isaac's  manner  was  casual  and  be- 
trayed no  haste,  after  the  approved  style  of  Eastern 
courtiers.  For  quite  awhile  longer  they  chatted  with 
gravity  and  pretended  interest,  then  they  rose,  bid- 
ding each  other  farewell  with  the  same  elaborate  ges- 
tures which  had  marked  their  meeting. 

With  a  sigh  of  relief  and  a  complacence  born  of 
duty  well  performed,  Isaac  and  his  soldiers  took  their 
way  homeward  and  the  House  of  Naaman  began 
that  waiting  program  which  was  to  be  its  chief  occu- 
pation for  some  time  to  come  and  of  which  its  mas- 
ter was  to  grow  almost  fatally  weary  before  it 
should  be  brought  to  a  happy  ending.  In  a  few  days, 


158  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

as  promised  by  my  lord  high  officer,  the  watchman 
stationed  upon  Naaman's  roof  to  note  the  approach 
of  the  king's  messenger  sent  the  joyful  cry  echoing 
through  the  courtyards :  "Behold,  he  cometh." 

Instantly  the  great  house  responded  with  a  bustle 
of  preparation  and  a  suspension  of  all  unnecessary 
tasks,  giving  itself  up  to  the  delightful  thrill  of  ex- 
pectancy. The  crowd  of  mendicants,  the  halt  and 
maimed  and  blind,  pensioners  upon  Naaman's 
bounty,  melted  away  from  before  his  gate — at  the 
command  of  the  gatekeeper,  aided  by  a  stout  staff 
and  one  or  two  men  servants — like  snow  before  the 
sun.  The  courtyards  were  cleared  of  all  save  those 
whose  privilege  and  duty  it  was  to  be  there.  Isaac, 
not  now  in  the  dress  of  a  soldier  but  in  the  soft,  fine 
raiment  of  a  rich  man,  as  befitted  the  master  he 
represented,  met  the  stranger  at  the  very  gateway. 

By  means  of  those  elaborate  bows  which  had  char- 
acterized Isaac's  previous  visit  to  the  palace,  the 
messenger  was  finally  drawn  within  the  greater  pri- 
vacy of  one  of  the  inner  courts.  This  not  only  shut 
them  out  from  the  gaze  and  hearing  of  the  curious 
but  conveyed  the  complimentary  impression  that  he 
was  received  into  the  bosom  of  the  family.  His 
message  was  brief.  On  the  morrow  his  master,  the 
king,  would  give  audience  to  his  well-beloved  servant, 
Naaman,  at  the  fourth  hour  of  the  day.  Yet,  how- 
ever concise  the  communication,  Oriental  etiquette 
forbade  its  delivery  in  a  hasty  manner  or  without 


DECISION  159 

due  ceremony.  A  long  time  was  it  before  Isaac, 
bidding  farewell  to  this  important  guest,  was  at  lib- 
erty to  pay  a  scarcely  less  ceremonious  visit  to  his 
anxious  master  and  to  stand  at  length,  smiling,  be- 
fore Miriam,  that  she  might  hear  the  joyful  tidings. 

The  next  day,  promptly  at  ten  o'clock,  Naaman 
and  his  imposing  bodyguard  of  soldiers  appeared  at 
the  palace.  A  no  less  imposing  retinue  of  palace 
officials  and  servants,  led  by  my  lord  high  officer, 
met  him  at  the  palace  gate  and  with  great  apparent 
respect  conducted  him  to  the  throne  room.  Here 
he  and  his  king  exchanged  the  same  elaborate  cour- 
tesies which  had  marked  the  meeting  of  their  repre- 
sentatives a  few  days  before.  Yet  with  a  differ- 
ence !  The  latter  had  been  coldly  formal,  meaning- 
lessly  polite.  This  was  the  greeting  of  friends,  of 
those  whose  regard  for  each  other  was  built  upon  a 
solid  foundation  of  respect  and  affection,  although 
there  was  not  the  slightest  trace  of  undue  familiarity 
on  the  one  hand  nor  lack  of  dignity  on  the  other. 

Salutations  concluded,  the  king  commanded  all 
who  attended  him  to  retire  from  the  immediate  vi- 
cinity. Naaman,  following  suit,  gestured  to  Isaac, 
and  his  bodyguard  likewise  withdrew  to  a  distance. 
The  two  highest  dignitaries  of  Syria  could  now  con- 
verse in  such  privacy  that  their  tones  alone  were 
audible  to  those  who  stood  at  either  end  of  the  long 
throne  room.  Impressively  yet  briefly  Naaman  re- 
cited the  facts :  it  had  become  known  to  him,  through 


160  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

a  maid  in  his  household,  that  there  dwelt  in  the  city 
of  Samaria,  in  the  Land  of  Israel,  a  prophet  of  Je- 
hovah, the  little-known  God  of  the  land.  This  seer, 
it  appeared,  was  a  man  mighty  in  word  and  deed, 
able,  so  the  maiden  stated,  to  heal  even  the  dread 
disease  of  leprosy.  Now,  therefore,  if  he  had  found 
favor  in  the  sight  of  his  master,  the  king,  he  hoped 
it  would  please  the  king  to  allow  his  servant  to  depart 
in  peace  upon  this  mission. 

Ben-hadad  was  gracious.  The  affliction  of  Naa- 
man,  the  man  whom  all  Syria  delighted  to  honor, 
was  also  his  affliction.  Any  chance  of  relief,  how- 
ever remote,  must  be  seized  with  as  little  delay  as 
possible.  If  Jehovah,  the  God  of  the  Israelites,  act- 
ing through  his  prophet,  was  thus  powerful,  to  ef- 
fect a  cure  would  be  but  a  small  matter  and  one  to 
be  quickly  accomplished.  He,  the  king  of  Syria, 
would  write  a  letter  to  the  young  king  of  Israel,  son 
of  their  late  enemy,  Ahab,  which  letter  should  be 
delivered  in  person  by  Naaman.  The  request  therein 
contained  would  of  course  be  immediately  granted. 
The  affair  should  take  precedence  of  certain  other 
state  business  so  that,  in  a  few  days,  the  letter  should 
be  written  and  dispatched  by  messenger  to  the  House 
of  Naaman. 

Thus  comforted  and  highly  elated  at  the  success  of 
his  mission,  Naaman  and  his  attendants  made  the 
usual  elaborate  adieux  and  departed.  It  was  not 
that  an  interview  between  the  king  and  his  army's 


DECISION  161 

commander-in-chief  was  either  unusual  or  infre- 
quent, but  this  had  been  fraught  with  national  and 
international  consequence,  and  ceremony  was  neces- 
sary. Not  often  did  one  monarch  ask  a  favor  of 
another  without  intending  to  reciprocate,  but  this 
visit  of  Naaman  to  Israel,  with  its  consequent  ex- 
change of  diplomatic  courtesies,  meant  a  closer  al- 
liance of  the  two  nations ;  a  declaration  of  friendship, 
as  it  were,  which  would  last  as  long  as  it  served  their 
purpose  and  which  might  not  be  a  bad  thing  in  these 
days  of  Assyrian  encroachments. 

Miriam,  watching  the  approach  of  the  party  from 
her  favorite  spot  on  the  roof,  observed  that  the 
leader  lifted  his  shield  of  beaten  brass  and  pointed 
to  the  distant  mountains.  She  understood.  Isaac 
was  telling  her  that  Jehovah,  in  whom  she  trusted, 
had  brought  it  to  pass :  the  king's  answer  was  favor- 
able, and  breathlessly  she  ran  to  carry  the  second- 
message  of  hope  to  her  mistress. 


CHAPTER  XV 
CONSTERNATION 

IN  that  portion  of  the  veranda  where  stood  Isaac 
and  Miriam,  eagerly  discussing  recent  events,  there 
was  much  passing  to  and  fro  of  men  servants  and 
maid  servants,  picking  up  crumbs  of  talk  like  hungry 
birds  at  a  feast.  With  an  imperious  gesture,  bor- 
rowed from  his  master,  Isaac  made  known  his  dis- 
pleasure. Instantly  each  individual  had  duties  else- 
where. 

Miriam  laughed.  "What  a  great  man  thou  art  be- 
coming, Isaac!" 

"Nay,"  he  answered,  "but  if  this  mission  of  our 
master  to  Israel  be  prospered,  then  must  we  flatter 
and  defer  to  thee,  for  thy  position  in  the  household 
will  be  enviable." 

Immediately  regretting  the  contamination  of  her 
mind  with  any  taint  of  worldly  wisdom,  he  ignored 
her  surprised  exclamations  and  spoke  of  the  rich 
stores  which  were  being  gathered  in  preparation  for 
the  journey  to  Israel,  a  thank-offering  to  the  prophet 
should  Naaman  be  healed.  Much  gold  and  silver, 
not  in  coins — which  came  at  a  later  period — but  in 
bulk,  ready  to  be  cut  and  weighed  according  to  the 
amount  required  when  occasion  arose  for  paying 
or  giving,  and,  in  addition,  the  famous  products  of 

162 


CONSTERNATION  163 

Damascus  looms  and  other  Eastern  merchandise: 
silk  that  would  neither  wrinkle  nor  cut ;  cotton  and 
linen  of  exquisite  weave,  and  heavier  fabrics,  all 
made  up  into  the  much-prized  "changes  of  raiment," 
which  would  last  the  fortunate  possessor  a  lifetime 
and  still  not  be  worn  out.1 

Miriam  asked  a  half-indignant  question: 
"Thinkest  thou  the  Man  of  God  will  regard  this? 
Nay,  but  only  that  our  master  may  know  Jehovah 
liveth." 

Isaac  looked  at  her  strangely.  "It  is  customary, 
when  asking  a  favor,  to  take  in  thine  hand  a  pres- 
ent, and  I  have  never  known  a  prophet  who  would 
refuse  it.  Have  we  not  tried  many  prophets  and 
many  gods?  Besides,  is  not  our  master  very  rich 
and  Damascus  the  gateway  between  Assyria  on  the 
east  and  Egypt  on  the  west,  a  city  great  in  com- 
merce and  industry?  Yea,  these  things  are  but 
right." 

It  had  been  a  late  spring.  That  is  to  say,  the  dry 
season  had  been  late  in  arriving,  and  for  diplomatic 
and  business  reasons  Naaman's  journey  to  Israel 
was  not  commenced  until  nearly  midsummer,  but 
the  great  day  came  at  last.  Miriam,  her  cheeks  glow- 
ing with  excitement,  watched  it  from  the  latticed 

'It  is  impossible  to  translate  into  modern  terms  the  exact  value  of  the  treas- 
ure Naaman  took  into  Israel,  the  figures  of  different  authorities  varying 
greatly,  but  none  estimate  it  at  less  than  f  60,000,  and  some  very  much  more. 
At  all  events,  it  was  considered  a  worthy  and  even  a  generous  gift. 


164  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

window  where  she  could  stand  now  on  fewer  cush- 
ions than  formerly.  It  was  an  imposing  procession. 
Isaac,  at  the  head,  looking  very  splendid,  Miriam 
thought,  waved  her  a  farewell  as  they  went  past  the 
lattice.  He  could  not  see  her,  but  he  knew  she  was 
there. 

She  gazed  eagerly,  noting  every  detail.  After 
Isaac  came  his  servant,  carrying  a  long  pole  on  the 
end  of  which  was  a  brazier  of  coals,  the  smoke  of 
which  would  be  a  cloud  by  day  and  a  fire  by  night, 
thus  guiding  the  drivers  behind  no  matter  how  far 
they  straggled  apart.  A  bodyguard  of  horsemen 
entirely  surrounded  the  chariot,  in  which  was  Naa- 
man,  with  one  driver  and  one  attendant,  the  latter 
supporting  a  sort  of  awning  on  poles  to  protect  his 
master  from  sun  and  wind  as  he  traveled.  A  second 
chariot  followed  in  case  of  accident  to  the  first.  At 
the  rear  of  the  bodyguard  rode  a  man  whom  Miriam 
had  long  ago  learned  to  distrust,  Lemuel  by  name. 
At  a  little  distance  followed  the  camel  train  with  its 
precious  burden  of  merchandise  and  another  soldier- 
guard.  Another  space  and  then  the  asses,  laden  with 
food,  water,  camping  equipment,  and  the  various 
necessities  of  such  a  lengthy  journey.  Last  of  all 
came  a  few  asses  and  camels  led,  these  to  be  used  in 
case  of  emergency.  A  few  more  soldiers  completed 
the  cavalcade. 

It  was  impressive,  picturesque,  noisy,  with  gaudily 
dressed  drivers,  the  decorated  animals  with  their 


CONSTERNATION  165 

tinkling  bells,  the  cries  in  many  languages  of  those 
who  urged  them  forward,  to  say  nothing  of  the  more 
ordinary  sight,  the  soldiers  in  dress-uniforms,  daz- 
zlingly  bright,  with  the  sun  reflected  on  metal  hel- 
mets and  shields  and  scalelike  coats  of  mail.  No 
wonder  Damascus  paused  in  its  business  and  pleasure 
to  admire  and  applaud  as  the  party  filed  slowly  and 
with  dignity  through  its  streets  and  out  of  the  south- 
western gate.  No  wonder  Miriam  was  excited,  en- 
tranced, delighted.  In  her  wildest  dreams  she  had 
not  beheld  it  thus,  but  after  it  had  passed  there  came 
a  feeling  of  desolation  such  as  she  had  not  experi- 
enced since  that  first  terrible  night  in  Damascus. 
Almost  an  hour  later  Milcah  found  her,  huddled 
among  the  cushions,  moaning  and  weeping. 

"They  have  gone;  gone  to  Israel;  and  I  am  left 
here!" 

Astonished  but  not  unsympathetic,  Milcah  at- 
tempted comfort,  but  the  writhing,  disheveled  figure 
and  the  wild  sobs  frightened  her.  Running  excit- 
edly to  her  mistress,  she  succeeded  in  startling  that 
lady  out  of  her  accustomed  languor  and  a  few  mo- 
ments later  they  both  bent  over  Miriam  with  deep 
concern.  Adah  gathered  the  girl  in  her  arms. 

"Desirest  thou  to  go  to  Israel,  little  maid?  Thou 
dost,  thou  sayest  ?  Thou  art  grieving  for  thy  father 
and  mother  and  thy  home  there  ?  Nay,  do  not  weep. 
Thou  shalt  go.  Only  be  thou  patient  until  we  learn 
how  it  is  with  thy  master." 


i66  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

Gradually,  under  these  assurances  and  Milcah's 
ministrations,  Miriam  became  calmer.  Wearied  by 
her  outburst  and  half  ashamed,  she  was  persuaded 
to  rest  in  a  darkened  room  until  she  should  feel  quite 
herself  again.  To  her  own  surprise,  she  found  she 
was  strangely  weak  and  unnerved.  For  days  she 
could  not  rise,  and  then  she  dragged  about  the  great 
house,  pale  and  dispirited,  until  the  excitement  of 
watching  for  the  return  of  the  party  brought  a  little 
color  to  her  cheeks  and  a  little  hope  to  her  heart. 

Meanwhile  Naaman  and  his  company  proceeded 
on  their  long,  long  way  in  the  scorching  heat.  Un- 
erringly Isaac  led  his  party  out  from  the  cool  shade 
of  the  orchards  surrounding  the  city  of  Damascus ; 
by  broad,  rocky  terraces  to  the  wind-swept  Plain  of 
the  Hauran,  toward  Mount  Hermon's  rugged  domi- 
nance in  the  south.  Past  wheat-fields  and  pasture 
lands,  a  few  insignificant  water  courses  and  oc- 
casional small  groves  of  trees.  Over  the  plains  they 
went,  across  the  Jordan  and  up  the  broad  and  fertile 
Vale  of  Jezreel,  brown  in  the  midsummer  heat  and 
drought.  A  twist  in  the  valley  and  they  were  in  the 
basin  in  which  Samaria  was  situated.  Up,  up,  three 
hundred  feet  or  more  to  the  very  top  of  the  cone- 
shaped  hill  upon  which  sat  the  city  itself,  impreg- 
nable, beautiful,  commanding  a  wide  view  of  the 
Valley  of  Jezreel  at  its  feet  and  the  blue  waters  of 
the  Great  Sea  (now  called  the  Mediterranean)  only 
twenty-three  miles  distant. 


CONSTERNATION  167 

The  approach  of  so  large  a  procession  could  not 
remain  unknown.  Long,  long  before  it  wound  its 
slow  way  up  the  hill,  among  the  gardens  and  scat- 
tered houses  of  the  suburbs,  the  watchman  in  the 
tower  had  noted  its  strength  and  its  probable  im- 
portance and  hastily  communicated  this  intelligence 
to  the  proper  officials,  who  had,  in  turn,  sent  a  mes- 
sage to  the  palace.  Long,  long  before  it  entered  the 
square  chamber  of  masonry  which  in  the  Orient  they 
call  a  gate,  prepared  to  emerge  therefrom  into  the 
city  through  the  opening  in  another  wall,  the  elders 
or  judges  sitting  on  the  stone  benches  ranged  along 
the  two  blank  walls  were  ready  with  questions.  Was 
their  errand  one  of  peace?  Who  were  they  and 
whence  did  they  come?  What  was  the  purpose  of 
this  visit  to  their  city  and  whom  sought  they? 

Isaac's  duties  multiplied.  He  was  now  not  only 
guide  but  interpreter  and  the  trusted  servant  who 
should  present  his  master's  all-important  plea  to  the 
city  officials.  More  than  this,  he  was  the  courteous 
diplomat  who  must  secure  the  favor  and  the  good 
will  of  these  officials  who  would,  at  their  discretion, 
give  them  safe  conduct  to  the  king.  The  examina- 
tion into  their  credentials  was  conducted  with  great 
solemnity  and  consumed  a  vast  deal  of  time,  but 
with  the  happy  result  that  the  procession  of  foreign 
guests  was  conducted  with  much  ceremony  through 
the  crooked  streets  of  Samaria  to  the  celebrated 
Ivory  Palace  of  the  king;  those  streets  so  narrow 


368  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

that  two  camels  could  not  go  abreast  and  leave  room 
for  foot  passengers,  so  shaded  from  the  heat  of  the 
sun  by  the  windowless  buildings  on  either  side  that, 
had  it  been  more  unusual,  it  would  have  been  de- 
pressing. 

In  the  East  there  is  courtesy  but  no  haste.  One 
wing  of  the  palace,  with  its  own  courts,  was  set 
aside  for  the  use  of  the  visitors,  and  trusted  servants 
and  high  officials  busied  themselves  in  making 
these  accommodations  comfortable  for  thosevwho 
honored  the  roof  by  their  presence.  Isaac  was 
granted  a  formal  interview  with  the  chief  officer  of 
the  palace,  the  occasion  being  much  the  same  as  in 
Syria,  when  he  had  appeared  to  request  audience 
for  his  master  with  King  Ben-hadad.  Now  as  then 
an  interval  must  elapse  while  the  message  was  con- 
veyed to  King  Jehoram  and  he  returned  an  answer, 
but  in  consideration  of  the  distinguished  position 
which  Naaman  occupied  in  his  own  country  and 
the  compliment  which  his  visit  implied,  this  was  con- 
siderably hurried. 

The  next  day  Isaac,  chief  servant  of  the  embassy, 
received  a  call  from  the  chief  officer  of  the  palace, 
appointing  the  hour  and  day  when  King  Jehoram 
would  receive  in  person  the  letter  of  King  Ben-ha- 
dad and  the  officer  whom  it  introduced.  Naaman, 
tired  from  the  long  and  exhausting  journey,  was 
glad  to  have  a  few  hours  of  rest,  but  as  the  hardened 
soldier  recovered  somewhat  from  his  pain  and 


CONSTERNATION  169 

fatigue,  he  grew  impatient  for  the  interview.  The 
hour  came.  Amid  great  splendor  Naaman  was  con- 
ducted into  the  presence  of  the  young  King  Jehoram, 
the  letter  was  presented,  courteous  greetings  and  as- 
surances of  friendship  were  exchanged,  and  then 
Naaman  was  escorted  back  to  his  apartments  to 
await  the  real  answer  to  his  plea ;  the  favorable  reply 
anticipated  but  not  yet  given!  Though  com- 
patible with  Eastern  custom,  it  was  a  situation  cal- 
culated to  inspire  distrust  in  the  breast  of  the  suf- 
fering Naaman  and  uneasiness  on  the  part  of  his 
servant,  Isaac. 

In  that  portion  of  the  palace  they  had  just  left  the 
air  was  charged  with  excitement.  The  king,  sur- 
rounded by  his  counselors,  old  and  young,  rent  his 
garments  with  true  Oriental  display  of  grief  and 
vexation.  What  power  had  he  to  cure  a  man  of 
leprosy?  Was  he  a  god  to  kill  and  make  alive?  No 
reasonable  human  being  would  suppose  he  could  do 
this  thing.  Nay,  it  was  merely  a  pretext  for  Syria 
to  declare  war  against  Israel.  Not  content  with 
petty  raids  on  their  fertile  valleys  almost  every  year ; 
not  satisfied  with  carrying  off  their  flocks,  their 
grain,  their  wine  and  their  oil,  and  even  a  captive 
now  and  then;  not  content  that  Jehoram's  father, 
Ahab,  had  spared  Ben-hadad's  life  when  the  latter 
was  at  his  mercy,  and  made  a  treaty  of  trade  and 
peace  when  he  might  have  been  less  generous ;  not 
satisfied  with  this  and  all  of  these,  Ben-hadad  now, 


170  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

without  just  cause,  sought  an  open  rupture.  And 
Israel — was  Israel  prepared  to  resist  an  invasion? 
Nay,  but  as  the  ravenous  dogs  fell  upon  travelers  in 
the  night  so  would  Syria  fall  upon  them  and  rend 
them  in  pieces ! 

The  counselors  of  the  young  king  shook  their 
heads  and  mingled  their  tears  with  his,  their  hearts 
heavy  with  sorrow.  If  this  thing  came  upon  them — 
and  it  had — they  must  meet  it  like  men.  What  did 
prudence  dictate?  It  was  a  long  conference,  pru- 
dence seeming  to  dictate  quite  a  number  of  things. 
As  a  result,  the  king  hastily  sent  from  one  end  of 
his  kingdom  to  the  other,  taking  account  of  his  re- 
sources: the  number  of  his  fighting  men;  his 
weapons  of  war;  his  food-supplies;  his  gold  and  sil- 
ver. His  counselors  met  in  secret  session  again  and 
considered  Israel's  trade  relations,  her  diplomatic 
friendships.  Was  she  able,  alone,  to  meet  the  enemy? 
Would  she  have  help?  Upon  what  could  she  de- 
pend when  this  unfavorable  answer  should  be  re- 
turned as  soon,  indeed,  it  must  be? 

Despite  the  urgency  of  the  occasion,  this  census 
consumed  some  time  and  was,  alas,  in  no  wise  satis- 
factory. It  was  a  fact,  grave  but  unmistakable,  that 
Israel  was  not  prepared  to  meet  a  foe  of  Syria's 
means,  of  Syria's  army,  of  Syria's  leadership !  Is- 
rael never  faced  a  greater  crisis.  Her  king  was  com- 
manded to  do  the  impossible  or  else — there  were  no 
need  to  complete  the  sentence.  The  veriest  child 


CONSTERNATION  171 

could  speak  the  answer  and  dread  it,  and  King  Je- 
horam  lifted  up  his  voice  and  wept  in  the  demon- 
strative Eastern  fashion.  Consternation,  though 
veiled,  was  not  confined  to  the  palace.  The  arrival 
of  so  large  a  procession,  its  gorgeous  display  of 
wealth,  the  foreign  garb  of  its  people  and  their 
probable  errand  could  not  fail  to  be  a  matter  of  pub- 
lic interest  and  conjecture.  The  hopelessness  of  its 
mission  could  not  long  be  kept  from  the  populace, 
nor  fail  to  sound  a  note  of  dismay  to  the  thoughtful. 
Meanwhile,  in  the  apartments  paneled  in  ivory, 
among  the  simple  but  costly  furnishings,  Naaman 
paced  restlessly.  Was  this  prophet  of  Jehovah  on 
a  journey  to  some  far  country  that  he  came  not? 
Was  there  any  deception  on  the  part  of  this  young 
king  that  he  failed  to  return  a  favorable  reply?  Did 
he  consider  it  a  matter  of  so  little  importance  that 
he  could  safely  procrastinate?  Could  there  have 
been  any  mistake  in  the  information  which  had  sent 
him  hither?  Down,  far  below,  into  the  Valley  of 
Jezreel  Naaman  looked,  but  the  yellow  grain  fields 
merely  nodded  in  the  summer  heat  and  refused  to  an- 
swer. Off  to  the  blue  strip  of  the  Great  Sea  he  raised 
his  eyes,  but  the  flashing  oars  of  the  Phoenician 
galleys  rose  and  fell  unheeding.  Toward  the  hills 
he  looked,  but  from  their  bare,  brown  hulks  no  help 
arose  and  Hermon  regarded  him  coldly  from  its 
snow-crowned  peak.  Weary,  puzzled  and  in  pain, 
Naaman  strove,  sighing,  to  wait  yet  another  day 


172  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

while  the  little  maid  whose  cheerful  assurances  had 
been  the  cause  of  his  visit,  lay  upon  her  bed,  in  the 
grasp  of  a  great  longing,  knowing  not  that  her  un- 
selfish plea  had  brought  about  international  compli- 
cations and  deep  consternation  to  her  beloved  Land 
of  Israel. 


CHAPTER  XVI 
HOPE 

IN  a  crooked  and  somewhat  retired  street  of  Sa- 
maria stood  a  house  which,  next  to  the  Ivory  Palace 
of  the  king,  was  the  most  noted  in  all  Israel.  On 
the  outside  there  was  nothing  to  denote  any  special 
importance,  nothing  to  particularly  commend  it  to 
the  attention  of  the  young  man  who  walked  along 
slowly,  scanning  each  dwelling  with  interest.  It 
might  have  been  the  home  of  any  well-to-do  citizen. 
The  stranger  paused  doubtfully,  asked  a  question  of 
a  passer-by,  and  then  approached  the  entrance  gate, 
rapping  loudly. 

One  in  the  garb  of  a  servant  but  with  the  air  and 
manner  of  authority  responded  to  the  summons. 
That  is  to  say,  although  not  opening  the  portal  he 
called  through  it  to  know  who  was  there  and  what 
the  errand.  These  questions  being  answered  satis- 
factorily, the  stranger  was  allowed  to  remain  stand- 
ing without  until  the  servant  within  walked  leisurely 
across  the  courtyard  and  ascended  a  flight  of  stone 
steps  in  the  corner  to  the  flat  roof  of  the  dwelling 
and  so  into  the  presence  of  an  older  man,  to  whom 
he  bowed  low  and  who,  in  return,  greeted  him  ea- 
gerly. 

173 


174  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

"No  message  hath  come  to  me  from  the  king, 
Gehazi?" 

"None,  my  master." 

"And  what  saith  the  people  to-day?" 

"Despair  filleth  all  hearts,  my  lord,  and  the  king 
rendeth  his  garments  and  weepeth,  for  there  be  none 
to  help." 

The  face  of  the  older  man  suddenly  became  gray 
and  drawn  and  he  went  on  talking,  but  as  if  to  him- 
self :  "Neither  king  nor  people  remember  that  Je- 
'hovah  is  their  refuge,  a  very  present  help  in  trouble. 
Yet  will  not  the  son  of  Jezebel  hearken  nor  the 
people  whose  minds  the  priests  of  Baal  hath  dark- 
ened." He  stood  silent  a  moment,  then  stretched  out 
his  arms  over  the  parapet,  toward  the  panoramic 
view  of  the  city  and  valley  below. 

"O  Israel,  that  ye  would  consider  and  know  that 
the  Lord  is  good  and  that  thy  strength  cometh  from 
him,  whose  servant  I  am !" 

His  head  sank  upon  his  breast  in  meditation,  but 
ere  long  he  roused  himself  and  spoke  with  decision : 
"We  have  waited  many  days,  Gehazi.  Now  shall 
they  see  the  salvation  of  the  Lord  of  Hosts.  Do 
thou  send  to  the  palace  and  say  to  the  young  King 
Jehoram,  'Wherefore  hast  thou  rent  thy  garments  ? 
Let  this  man,  Naaman,  come  now  to  me  and  he  shall 
know  that  there  is  a  God  in  Israel  and  I,  his 
prophet.'  " 

Gehazi  again  bowed  low,  murmuring  some  words 


HOPE  175 

of  assent,  after  which  he  remembered  to  speak  of 
the  visitor  below. 

"A  stranger,  my  master,  is  without  the  gate,  de- 
siring to  talk  with  the  seer.  He  giveth  his  name  as 
Isaac  of  Damascus,  a  soldier.  Shall  I  bid  him  en- 
ter?" 

"Knowest  thou  his  voice,  Gehazi?" 

"Nay,  my  master,  but  it  hath  the  ring  of  sin- 
cerity." 

"Then  shall  he  be  admitted.  Doubtless  he  cometh 
with  this  Syrian,  Naaman,  and  seeketh  me  to  in- 
quire of  the  Lord  concerning  him.  I  await  him 
here." 

Gehazi  leisurely  descended  the  stairs,  crossed  the 
courtyard,  opened  the  gate  and  received  the  visitor 
within.  Isaac's  sandals  having  been  left  outside, 
Gehazi  brought  forth  a  basin  over  which  the 
young  man  held  first  his  hands  and  then  his  feet 
while  the  servant,  from  the  ewer  which  he  held, 
poured  water  over  them.  Isaac  then  wiped  off  the 
water  with  the  towel  which  hung  from  the  other's 
girdle. 

Gehazi  now  disappeared  and  a  moment  later  set 
before  the  stranger  a  little  bread  and  wine.  This 
was  partaken  of  with  the  audible  satisfaction  which 
Eastern  etiquette  demanded — the  smacking  of  lips 
which  told  of  the  pleasure  conferred  by  this  atten- 
tion. 

These  ceremonies  over,  the  visitor  was  conducted 


176  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

to  the  roof,  where  the  host  awaited  him.  Gehazi 
bowed  low  before  his  master :  "It  is  Isaac,  a  soldier 
of  Damascus." 

The  older  man  forsook  his  meditation  and  looked 
toward  his  guest.  In  the  meanwhile,  he  of  whom 
they  spoke,  apparently  seeing  nothing  at  all  had  yet 
seen  everything.  No  detail  of  his  surroundings  had 
escaped  his  observant  eye. 

"If  I  like  not  the  master  better  than  the  man," 
he  thought,  "then  shall  I  know  that  the  little  maid 
hath  been  indeed  mistaken  in  putting  confidence 
here,"  and  he  sighed. 

Noting  that  he  was  expected  to  approach,  Isaac 
ran  forward,  prostrating  himself.  Rising,  he  rever- 
entially took  between  his  hands  the  face  of  the  seer 
and  kissed  his  head.  Immediately  the  older  man 
extended  his  hand,  which  the  visitor  clasped,  and 
each  kissed  the  back  of  the  other's  hand.  Isaac's 
greeting  was  the  tribute  of  an  inferior  to  a  revered 
superior.  Elisha's  extended  hand  was  a  condescen- 
sion which  the  younger  man  understood  as  placing 
him  on  the  footing  of  an  equal  or  that  of  an  hon- 
ored guest,  yet  courtesy  forbade  him  to  speak  until 
his  host  had  first  taken  the  initiative. 

The  keen  gaze  of  the  latter  seemed  to  penetrate 
his  gorgeous  costume  and  lay  bare  every  secret  of 
his  soul,  but  the  voice  was  kindly:  "What  is  thy 
need,  my  son?" 

"Thou  art  Elisha,  prophet  of  Jehovah?" 


HOPE  177 

"Yea,  my  son.    What  wouldst  thou  ?" 

What  would  he?  Isaac's  voice  fairly  trembled 
with  the  earnestness  of  his  desire,  and  he  spoke  rap- 
idly :  "That  thou  wouldst  heal  my  master,  Naaman 
the  Syrian." 

The  prophet  sighed.  "Neither  king  nor  people 
have  asked  this  thing  at  the  hand  of  the  Lord.  Great 
love  hast  thou  for  thy  master  that  thou  comest  to 
me." 

"Love  and  gratitude  and  admiration  and  pity,  my 
lord.  All  these  have  I  for  my  great  and  good  mas- 
ter, Naaman,  but  I  have  come  to  thee  more  in  dread 
of  sorrow  to  a  little  maid  whom  I  carried  away  cap- 
tive almost  five  years  ago  and  who  hath  brought  to 
mind  the  teaching  of  my  mother,  who  was  of  the 
Land  of  Gilead.  Thou  must  know,  oh  my  father, 
that  among  so  many  gods  it  is  hard  to  know  the  one 
supreme  save  as  now  and  again  one  performeth 
some  mighty  work  which  causeth  men  to  say,  'Lo 
here,'  or  To  there,'  but  my  mother  and  this  little 
maid  have  ever  maintained  that  Jehovah  is  God 
alone,  who  only  doeth  marvelous  works.  If  this  be 
so,  thou  his  prophet  canst  heal  my  master  of  his 
leprosy." 

Straight  into  the  troubled  eyes  of  his  young  visitor 
the  older  man  looked  and  smiled.  "It  is  well,  my 
son.  To  win  the  unselfish  affection  of  a  child;  to 
love  a  maid  purely  and  protectingly  and  to  keep  thy- 
self worthy  of  both  will  be  to  thy  remorseful  soul 


178  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

as  waters  of  cleansing."  Then,  sternly:  "And  to 
atone  for  the  evil  thou  hast  wrought  to  the  House 
of  Caleb,  I  charge  thee  to  do  this  thing  lest  the  wrath 
of  Jehovah  fall  upon  thee." 

Awed  and  assenting,  Isaac  stood  through  a  few 
moments  of  silence  on  the  part  of  his  host.  At  last 
the  latter  turned  to  him.  "As  to  thy  master,  Naa- 
man,  behold,  before  thy  return  to  the  palace,  he  will 
have  received  a  message  from  the  king  to  present 
himself  to  me.  To-morrow  at  this  hour  thou  shalt 
bring  him  hither  and  both  he  and  thou  shalt  know 
the  only  true  God." 

The  speaker  made  a  gesture  by  which  his  visitor 
understood  that  the  interview  was  ended.  With 
respectful  ceremony  Isaac  made  his  adieux  and 
started  back  to  the  Ivory  Palace,  back  to  his  impa- 
tient master.  As  he  went  he  reviewed  the  events  of 
the  past  few  weeks,  the  disquieting  rumors  which 
his  familiarity  with  the  language  had  enabled  him 
to  hear  in  the  long  walks  he  had  taken  through  the 
city  with  a  view  to  news-gathering,  a  pastime  in- 
spired by  Jehoram's  delay  and  Naaman's  depression. 
It  was  this  which  had  driven  him  to  the  prophet.  He 
must  know  for  himself  if  there  were  hope. 

At  the  palace  gate  there  awaited  him  a  servant 
whom  they  had  brought  from  Syria  to  say  that  his 
master  desired  his  presence  without  delay.  Isaac 
presented  himself  humbly,  half  expecting  the  wrath 
which  he  encountered. 


HOPE  179 

"So  thine  own  business  and  pleasure  are  more  to 
thee  than  mine,  Isaac." 

"Nay,  my  master,  I — " 

"The  king's  messenger  hath  been  here  and  thou 
away.  None  but  Lemuel  to  speak  his  tongue  and  he 
haltingly  and  the  message  one  of  importance.  Yet 
peradventure  I  should  not  have  expected  thy  in- 
terest. Thinkest  thou  I  have  not  marked  thy  many 
absences  of  late  and  this  the  longest  of  all?" 

"But,  my  master,  if  thou  hadst  followed  me — " 
The  eager  tone  trailed  off  into  silence.  How  could 
he  relate  the  disheartening  tidings  he  had  heard  on 
every  hand  when  it  could  but  add  to  his  master's 
impatience  and  perhaps  frustrate  the  very  purpose 
for  which  they  had  come  ?  The  pause  was  lengthy. 

Naaman's  manner  changed  from  sarcastic  irri- 
tability to  amused  toleration.  "I  had  forgotten, 
Isaac,  how  oft  thou  hast  been  in  this  land.  I  should 
have  remembered  thy  youth  and  thy  good  looks  and 
the  charm  of  the  maids  of  Israel." 

"Nay,  nay,  my  master.     I  but  went — " 

Naaman  waved  aside  the  explanation.  "Few 
maidens  are  unwilling  to  smile  upon  a  soldier,  but 
it  mattereth  not,"  he  said  with  finality.  "I  should 
not  expect  from  thee  the  wisdom  of  age.  I  do  not 
expect  it.  But  go  now  and  make  what  preparations 
are  necessary,  for  to-morrow,  at  the  fourth  hour,  we 
present  ourselves  before  this  prophet  of  Jehovah  for 
my  healing.  The  mouth  of  the  king  hath  spoken  it." 


i8o  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

Other  mouths,  both  within  and  without  the  palace, 
took  up  the  words  and  repeated  them  until,  between 
excitement  and  curiosity,  Samaria  slept  badly  that 
night.  The  next  morning,  at  the  hour  appointed, 
the  narrow  streets  of  the  city  were  packed  with  hu- 
manity as  the  Syrian  embassy  wended  its  slow  and 
stately  way  to  the  house  of  the  Man  of  God. 

In  front  rode  several  dignitaries  in  chariots  repre- 
senting King  Jehoram.  Next  came  Isaac  on  horse- 
back, attended  by  his  servant  and  a  soldier  or  two 
who  preceded  the  chariot  of  Naaman.  The  Syrian 
bodyguard,  who  followed,  were  escorted  by  the 
flower  of  the  Israelitish  army.  In  the  rear  came  the 
pack  animals,  their  picturesque  drivers,  and  a  few 
more  soldiers.  It  was  a  civil  and  not  a  military  pro- 
cession, and  the  splendor  and  dignity  of  both  coun- 
tries were  represented.  Amid  gaping  crowds  the 
company  came  to  a  halt  before  the  House  of  Elisha. 
Slowly  and  as  if  in  expectation  of  their  arrival,  the 
g*ate  opened.  The  moment  was  tense  with  ex- 
pectancy. As  a  mark  of  respect  to  the  prophet  all 
dismounted,  including  Naaman,  but  it  was  not 
Elisha.  It  was  his  servant,  Gehazi,  with  a  mes- 
sage: 

"Thus  saith  the  Man  of  God :  'Go  wash  in  the 
Jordan  seven  times,  and  thy  flesh  shall  come  again 
to  thee  and  thou  shalt  be  clean.' ' 

All  eyes  were  turned  upon  Naaman,  who  flushed 
crimson  with  rage  and  disappointment.  The  Jor- 


HOPE  181 

dan  indeed !  The  muddy,  swift-flowing,  treacherous 
Jordan !  Contrast  it  with  the  clear,  sparkling  waters 
of  the  Abana  and  Pharpar  back  in  Syria!  If  all  he 
needed  was  to  dip  in  some  river,  he  much  preferred 
those  at  home.  They  were,  at  least,  less  repulsive 
than  this  boasted  stream  in  a  foreign  land.  Were 
they  not  better  than  all  the  rivers  of  Israel?  And 
the  idea  of  sending  a  servant  with  the  message! 
Why  did  not  the  prophet  himself  come  out,  and 
stand,  and  call  upon  the  name  of  his  God  in  the 
spectacular  manner  of  the  East?  Why  did  he  not 
strike  his  hand  over  the  diseased  flesh  and  effect  a 
cure  with  all  the  ceremony  it  was  natural  to  expect  ? 
The  meanest  servant  could  have  hoped  for  nothing 
less  than  such  treatment  as  he,  Naaman,  had  re- 
ceived. To  put  the  most  charitable  construction 
upon  the  act,  the  prophet  had  evidently  not  under- 
stood the  position  held  by  his  visitor,  else  he  would 
have  acted  more  in  accordance  with  the  customs  of 
the  day.  Nevertheless  he,  Naaman,  had  not  come 
all  the  way  to  Israel  to  be  treated  discourteously, 
slightingly;  to  be  mocked  and  ridiculed.  The  long 
and  painful  journey  had  been  worse  than  useless. 
They  would  return  whence  they  had  come  and  woe 
to  Israel  when  Ben-hadad  heard ! 

The  Syrian  embassy  whispered  among  themselves. 
The  elders  of  the  city  and  the  dignitaries  from  the 
palace  held  a  brief  parley  and  then  approached  Naa- 
man with  an  air  of  dismayed  humility,  with  apology 


182  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

and  almost  with  entreaty,  but  the  outraged  visitor 
was  conscious  only  of  the  insult  put  upon  him.  In 
the  face  of  his  anger  all  of  Isaac's  diplomacy  served 
only  to  ruffle  his  feelings  the  more  and  to  make  the 
efforts  of  the  young  interpreter  and  sen-ant  appear 
ridiculous  in  the  eyes  of  those  who  saw  the  futility 
of  anything  but  surrender  to  the  exasperating  cir- 
cumstances. The  king's  representatives  were  thor- 
oughly alarmed.  In  a  few  days,  perhaps,  when  the 
wrath  of  their  mighty  visitor  had  cooled,  he  might 
be  persuaded  to  try  the  remedy,  which  appeared  even 
to  them  as  questionable,  if  not  absurd.  If  he  did 
not  care  to  be  reasonable,  or  if  the  prescription 
failed,  then,  indeed,  the  last  state  of  this  miserable 
affair  would  be  worse  than  the  first.  Years  ago  King 
Ahab  had  had  Ben-hadad  at  his  mercy;  Israel  had 
put  her  foot  upon  Syria's  neck,  but  since  then  other 
wars  had  changed  entirely  the  complexion  of  East- 
ern politics.1 

It  was  a  crestfallen  party  which  took  its  slow  de- 
parture from  the  prophet's  house.  Even  the  horses 
seemed  to  feel  the  general  air  of  gloom  and  walked 
less  proudly.  Isaac,  chagrined  at  this  unexpected 
turn  of  affairs,  heard  not  the  comments  of  his  com- 
panions, saw  not  the  jostling  and  awe-struck 
throngs,  cared  not  for  his  master's  ire.  He  was 
conscious  only  that  back  in  Syria  was  a  maid  with 

»Some  authorities  claim  that  at  this  period  Syrian  arms  were  renowned  b»- 
cauae  she  had  repelled  even  mighty  Assyria. 


HOPE  183 

the  light  of  happy  expectancy  in  her  eyes  and  it 
must  not  be  dimmed !  He  resolved  it  fiercely,  striv- 
ing to  consider  the  situation  as  calmly  as  possible. 
For  Miriam's  sake,  considerations  of  self  were  ob- 
literated. Into  the  struggle  he  threw  his  all,  risking 
his  future  and  the  favor  of  his  impulsive  master.  At 
a  turn  into  the  wider  street  which  led  to  the  palace, 
Naaman,  with  uncooled  wrath,  commanded  greater 
speed,  but  Isaac,  turning,  wheeled  his  horse  directly 
in  the  path  of  the  chariot,  thus  halting  the  entire 
company. 

The  anger  in  his  master's  eye  was  like  a  drawn 
sword,  but  love  for  Miriam  was  like  a  shield,  ward- 
ing off  the  thrusts.  His  voice  slightly  trembled  but 
he  held  his  ground :  "My  father,  if  the  prophet  had 
bid  thee  do  some  great  thing,  wouldst  thou  not  have 
done  it?  How  much  rather  when  he  saith  to  thee, 
'Wash  and  be  clean'?" 

Naaman,  the  bluff  man  of  moods,  at  first  irritated 
at  such  daring,  gradually  became  aware  that  he  ad- 
mired it.  He  himself  had  experienced  great  mo- 
ments and  high  courage.  And  there  was  no  selfish- 
ness in  the  plea.  Isaac  was  asking  for  nothing  which 
could  benefit  him  personally.  Naaman  looked  at 
the  straight,  young  figure,  at  the  earnest  face,  at  the 
yearning  affection  in  the  eyes.  "My  father,"  he  had 
said.  Naaman  felt  the  charm  of  deference  from 
youth  to  age;  the  tribute  of  regard  from  man  to 
master;  the  acknowledgment  of  respect  from  an  in- 


184  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

ferior.  "If  the  prophet  had  bid  thee  do  some  great 
thing,  wouldst  thou  not  have  done  it  ?"  He  would. 
He  was  keyed  up  to  any  effort.  That  was  wherein 
lay  the  disappointment.  "How  much  rather  when 
he  saith  to  thee,  'Wash  and  be  clean'  ?"  The  logic 
appealed  to  Naaman's  sense  of  justice.  Why  not 
indeed?  It  could  but  fail  as  had  everything  else. 
Why  take  all  this  trouble  and  then  refuse  to  do  the 
thing  recommended? 

The  king's  representatives  looked  on  in  amaze- 
ment. Who  and  what  was  this  youthful  interpreter 
and  courtier  that  he  dared  speak  words  of  remon- 
strance and  exhortation  to  this  powerful  foreigner? 
That  he  was  doing  just  this  was  evident  even  though 
the  language  used  left  the  exact  sentences  in  doubt. 
The  Syrian  soldiery  held  its  breath  in  wonder,  un- 
certain whether  to  admire  Isaac's  bravery  or  con- 
demn his  temerity.  They  would  decide  according 
to  the  outcome.  Naaman's  expression  passed 
through  a  series  of  changes  and  took  on  the  cool 
matter-of-fact. 

"On,"  he  directed,  "on— to  the  Jordan!" 


CHAPTER  XVII 
REWARDS 

FROM  the  city  of  Samaria  to  the  banks  of  the  Jor- 
dan was  some  thirty-five  miles,  considerably  more 
than  a  day's  journey  each  way.  It  lacked  an  hour 
of  noon  when  they  started,  so  Naaman's  party  was 
obliged  to  encamp  over  night,  and  it  was  late  the 
following  afternoon  when  they  finally  reached  their 
destination.  With  an  eagerness  that  knew  no  falter- 
ing, no  uncertainty,  Isaac  had  led  the  way.  Now, 
finding  a  shallow  spot  in  the  turbulent  river  near 
one  of  the  fords,  a  spot  warmed  for  hours  by  the 
summer  sun,  Naaman  had  dipped  seven  times,  as 
directed,  the  seventh  turning  vague  hope  into  joyous 
certainty.  He  was  healed  every  whit!  Joy  knew 
no  bounds.  The  king's  representatives  had  em- 
braced him  and  each  other.  Israel  was  saved !  The 
Syrian  embassy  was  scarcely  less  contained.  Even 
the  camel  drivers  from  the  desert  and  the  lowest  of 
the  servants  shouted  with  loud  voices  and  great 
enthusiasm  and  Naaman  beamed  upon  them  all,  but 
it  was  Isaac  to  whom  his  first  words  of  relief  and 
happiness  had  been  addressed,  and  Isaac  upon  whom 
he  smiled  with  tenderness  and  even  affection. 

With  hearts  attuned  to  see  the  wonderful  yellows 


186  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

and  browns  of  the  Valley  of  Jezreel  in  late  summer, 
their  horses'  hoofs  had  again  pattered  its  long  ex- 
panse, the  laden  camels  and  asses  driven  in  the  rear. 
One  more  night  they  had  encamped  and  now  they 
came  straggling  up  the  hill  they  had  descended  three 
days  before.  But  the  young  leader  had  made  a 
slight  error  in  judgment  as  to  the  time  of  arrival. 
It  was  shortly  after  sunset,  a  few  minutes  past  the 
hour  when  the  city  closed  its  gates — and  no  man 
came  to  open!  Lemuel,  companion  of  Isaac's  old 
scouting  days,  approached  him  with  a  respect  so 
profound  that  its  insincerity  was  patent. 

"Sir,  there  be  not  room  among  this  crowd  of 
mendicants,"  glancing  contemptuously  at  other  be- 
lated travelers,  "to  spread  our  camping  equipment 
with  due  regard  to  our  importance,  and  without  it 
we  shall  find  the  night-dews  too  heavy  to  be  pleasant. 
I  pray  thee  have  the  gates  opened  without  delay  that 
thy  servants  may  render  thee  the  honor  due  so  great 
a  captain." 

Annoyed,  Isaac  ceased  thundering  at  the  gates 
and  became  aware  of  the  murmuring  among  his  own 
party  and  the  derision  of  the  merchants  and  others 
who,  like  themselves,  seemed  doomed  to  spend  the 
night  with  only  the  city  walls  for  a  covering  while 
the  chill  air  of  the  mountains  penetrated  even  the 
thickest  of  garments.  The  voice  of  Naaman  com- 
manded silence.  He  spoke  compassionately  to 
Isaac. 


REWARDS  187 

"My  son,  he  at  whom  the  multitude  throws  roses 
feels  mostly  the  thorns.  He  who  by  any  act  be- 
comes more  noticeable  than  his  fellows  is  the  target 
for  their  envy.  Only  a  brave  man  can  afford  to 
be  prominent.  Do  I  not  know,  I,  the  veteran  of 
a  hundred  wars  and  judged  of  all?  Courage  in 
the  peril  of  battle  I  know  thou  hast,  Isaac,  for 
with  mine  own  eyes  have  I  beheld,  but  courage  in 
the  peril  of  success,  hast  thou  fortitude  sufficient 
for  this?" 

The  Syrian  party  had  unconsciously  drawn  closer 
together,  away  from  the  motley  crowd  of  late-comers 
who  were  striving  to  make  themselves  comfortable 
in  the  shadow  of  the  walls  and  were  fighting  ener- 
getically for  the  best  places.  The  king's  repre- 
sentatives, in  another  group,  were  making  a  deter- 
mined onslaught  upon  the  stout  gates  with  their 
swords  and  spears.  Lemuel  again  drew  near  Isaac, 
this  time  in  hurried  pompousness. 

"Answer  thou  wisely,"  he  said  in  an  undertone. 
"He  meaneth  to  reward  thee.  Remember  that  I 
have  been  thy  friend,  thy  companion  since  boyhood, 
intimate  enough  for  such  jesting  as  I  had  with  thee 
a  moment  ago." 

Isaac  shook  off  the  counsel  impatiently.  His  ac- 
tion had  been  inspired  with  no  thought  of  reward, 
save  in  the  joy  of  the  little  maid,  yet  Naaman  was 
rich  and  generous  and  a  gift  not  unlikely.  If  given 
a  choice,  he  knew  what  he  should  ask.  He  had  con- 


i88  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

sidered  the  matter,  but  the  plan  did  not  include 
Lemuel.  The  latter  fell  'back  a  pace.  His  words 
had  reached  no  other  ears  than  those  for  whom  they 
were  intended,  being  drowned  in  the  din  of  the 
pounding  on  the  gate.  Naaman,  amiable  in  the 
delight  of  physical  relief,  gave  a  few  brief  directions 
and  his  party  settled  down  to  waiting  with  whatever 
calmness  they  could  muster.  Audible  complaints 
ceased.  At  last,  on  top  of  the  city  wall,  a  watchman 
was  seen  approaching  from  the  tower  at  the  far 
corner.  At  first  a  speck  in  the  distance  as  he  made 
the  rounds  of  the  wall  leisurely,  he  finally  stood 
near  enough  to  the  gate  to  survey  the  assemblage 
outside.  With  unsympathetic  eye  he  viewed  the 
poorer  travelers  and  the  belated  merchants,  but  a 
change  came  over  his  countenance  as  he  beheld  the 
king's  representatives  and  the  Syrian  embassy.  In- 
stantly he  disappeared  within  the  city  and  the  party 
without  drew  a  sigh  of  content. 

Yet  the  gate  was  not  opened ;  that  is,  not  the  great 
gate.  A  smaller  one  within  the  larger  was  flung 
wide  and  the  watchman  appeared  with  obsequious 
interest :  "Behold  the  needle's  eye.  Enter  thou  and 
thy  beasts." 

The  men  could  get  through  readily,  and  even  the 
horses  could  with  difficulty,  but  hard  is  it  indeed 
for  a  camel  to  go  through  the  eye  of  a  needle! 
They  were  made  to  kneel  and  then,  with  much 
tugging  and  cursing  and  shouting  their  drivers  at 


REWARDS  189 

last  succeeded  in  getting  them  through  its  narrow 
space.  The  asses  required  almost  as  much  effort, 
having  to  be  unladen  and  their  burdens  strapped 
upon  them  once  more  on  the  city-side  of  the  gate. 
Finally,  only  the  chariots  and  the  least  important 
luggage  remained  under  guard  without  while  the 
watchman  closed  the  small  gate  decisively  against 
the  envious  groups  left  deriding  and  pleading  and 
cursing  in  the  shadow  of  the  walls. 

The  next  morning  Naaman's  company  again 
stood  before  the  abode  of  Elisha.  Again  was  it 
surrounded  by  gaping  throngs.  Again  had  the  city 
of  Samaria  cause  to  be  both  curious  and  joyful. 
Did  not  all  wish  to  gaze  upon  this  great  foreign  dip- 
lomat who  had  been  healed  in  the  Jordan?  Did 
not  his  recovery  mean  that  war  had  been  averted 
from  Israel?  What  would  he  say  to  the  prophet 
and  what  part  of  his  goodly  treasure  would  he  leave 
behind?  Part  of  this  question  had  been  answered 
before  it  had  been  asked;  answered  before  he  left 
the  palace,  when  he  had  proffered  a  gift  to  the  king, 
a  gift  generous  in  itself  but  small  in  comparison 
with  what  he  had  brought,  most  of  which  was  in- 
tended for  the  Man  of  God. 

Naaman's  visit  to  the  prophet,  however,  had  an 
even  greater  significance  than  the  crowd  surmised. 
In  fact,  his  errand  was  threefold.  First,  he  had 
come  to  bring  a  thank-offering.  Second,  he  wished 
to  make  public  confession  of  his  belief  in  that  Je- 


190  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

hovah  who,  though  Israel's  national  God,1  should 
now  be  his  own.  Third,  he  desired  greatly  to  have 
the  prophet's  advice  on  a  matter  which  weighed 
heavily  upon  his  mind.  This  time  he  was  not  re- 
quired to  deal  with  the  servant,  Gehazi.  Instead, 
with  all  the  elaborate  courtesy  of  the  East,  Naaman 
was  received  by  Elisha  in  person.  Not  with  the  ab- 
ruptness and  haste  which  we  of  the  West  are  pleased 
to  call  "business,"  but  with  deliberation  and  delicacy, 
Naaman  made  known  his  errand. 

"Behold,  now  know  I  that  there  is  no  God  in  all 
the  earth  but  in  Israel;  now  therefore,  I  pray  thee, 
take  a  blessing  of  thy  servant,"  and  Naaman 
stretched  forth  his  hand  toward  the  camels  laden 
with  treasure,  those  rich  stores  of  which  Damascus 
was  proud  and  which,  brought  in  this  form,  was 
the  current  idea  of  wealth. 

Elisha  demurred.  "As  the  Lord  liveth,  before 
whom  I  stand,  I  will  receive  none." 

Naaman  stared.  Surely  he  did  not  mean  it.  This 
was  merely  the  usual  reluctance,  the  hypocritical 
hesitancy  which  might  be  expected.  All  over  the 
Orient  it  was  customary  to  give  presents  to  the 
various  holy  men  who  were  successful  interpreters 
of  the  wills  of  their  respective  gods,  and  none  ever 
refused.  This  man  had  a  different  manner:  a  cour- 
tesy without  servility,  an  assurance  without  bigotry, 

'In  this  age,  deities  were  supposed  to  favor  localities  or  peoples;   there  was 
CO  conception  of  a  God  other  than  one  who  was  local  or  national, 


REWARDS  191 

self-respect  without  self-esteem,  but  he  was  human! 
Once  and  again  Naaman  urged  acceptance  of  the  of- 
fering, but  Elisha  was  firm.  A  murmur  of  surprise 
ran  through  the  ranks  of  the  Syrians  and  Naaman 
turned  impatiently,  commanding  their  withdrawal 
that  he  and  the  seer  might  converse  in  private.  Isaac, 
sole  attendant  upon  his  master,  as  Gehazi  was  upon 
Elisha,  communed  with  himself :  "So  saith  the  little 
maid,"  and  went  over  in  his  mind  her  protests 
against  this  gift  and  his  own  worldly-wise  replies. 
So  different  was  Jehovah  from  other  gods !  So  un- 
usual a  man  was  his  prophet ! 

Finding  insistence  useless,  Naaman  with  fine  feel- 
ing ignored  the  benefit  he  had  thought  to  confer 
and  begged  instead  that  a  favor  be  granted  him. 
"Shall  not  then,  I  pray  thee,  be  given  to  thy  servant 
two  mules'  burden  of  earth?"  From  the  land  Je- 
hovah was  supposed  to  especially  bless  Naaman 
would  take  sufficient  holy  ground  to  erect  in  heathen 
Syria  an  altar  to  this  new  God.  "For  thy  servant 
will  henceforth  offer  neither  burnt-offering  nor  sac- 
rifice unto  other  gods  but  only  unto  Jehovah." 

The  prophet  graciously  gave  consent  and  dis- 
patched Gehazi  with  servants  of  their  visitor  to  see 
that  proper  attention  be  given  the  matter. 

Naaman' s  brow  clouded  as  his  host  stood  waiting 
in  dignified  civility.  Drawing  nearer,  he  spoke  in 
tones  which  betrayed  his  agitation  of  mind.  "In 
this  thing,  however,  the  Lord  pardon  thy  servant; 


192  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

that  when  my  master,  the  king,  goeth  into  the  House 
of  Rimmon  to  worship  there  (for  thou  knowest  that 
my  master,  the  king,  leaneth  upon  the  hand  of  thy 
servant)  and  I  must  needs  bow  myself  in  the  House 
of  Rimmon  as  its  worship  requireth;  when  I  bow 
myself  I  make  request  that  the  Lord  pardon  thy 
servant  in  this  thing." 

For  a  moment  the  prophet  did  not  speak  and 
Naaman  waited  anxiously.  His  was  not  a  nature 
which  could  practice  deception  or  tolerate  it  in 
others,  yet  between  his  own  religious  convictions  and 
his  official  duties  as  a  member  of  the  Syrian  Court 
was  a  great  gulf  fixed.  Elisha's  answer  fell  upon 
his  hungry  heart  like  a  refreshing  shower  on 
parched  ground. 

"It  is  well.    Go  thou  in  peace." 

The  great  soldier  prostrated  himself  before  the 
seer,  who  politely  bade  him  rise,  and  their  farewells 
over — those  long  farewells  of  the  Orient — the 
Syrian  embassy  turned  its  face  homeward,  wonder- 
ing greatly  at  what  it  had  seen  and  heard. 

Through  the  gate  of  the  house  just  left  peered  a 
frowning  face.  Gehazi,  servant  to  the  prophet,  had 
regarded  his  master's  decision  concerning  the  gift 
with  some  displeasure.  True,  Elisha  was  not  poor, 
but  to  allow  wealth  to  pass  as  lightly  through  his 
fingers  as  a  man  openeth  his  hand  and  droppeth  seed 
in  sowing  time !  But  stay,  should  not  his  own  serv- 
ices be  rewarded  with  a  little,  a  very  little  indeed,  of 


REWARDS  193 

what  this  foreigner  was  reluctantly  carrying  away? 
His  eyes,  lighted  with  cupidity,  grew  cautious  as 
they  searched  the  apartments  within  for  trace  of  his 
master.  In  a  moment  he  had  shut  the  gate  softly 
and  stepped  outside. 

Isaac,  hearing  behind  them  the  footsteps  of  a 
runner,  looked  backward  curiously,  checking  his 
horse.  Naaman,  hearing  at  the  same  moment,  com- 
manded his  charioteer  to  stop  while  he  dismounted. 
Walking  a  few  steps  toward  the  runner,  whom  he 
perceived  to  be  the  prophet's  servant,  he  greeted  him 
anxiously. 

"Is  all  well?" 

The  man  reassured  him.  "All  is  well,  but  my 
master  hath  sent  me,  saying,  'Behold  even  now  there 
be  come  to  me  from  Mount  Ephraim  two  young  men 
of  the  Sons  of  the  Prophet.  Give  them,  I  pray  thee, 
a  talent  of  silver  and  two  changes  of  garments.'  " 

In  answer  to  this  request,  Naaman  generously  in- 
sisted upon  giving  more  than  was  desired :  "Be  con- 
tent, take  two  talents,"  and  although  Gehazi  ob- 
jected with  well  simulated  humility  there  was  in  his 
tones  no  such  decisive  finality  as  had  been  present  in 
the  voice  of  his  master. 

Calling  two  of  the  servants,  Naaman  saw  to  it 
that  they  bore  before  the  messenger  the  heavy  sil- 
ver, cut  and  weighed,  and  the  two  changes  of  fine 
raiment.  Well  satisfied  that  at  least  something  of 
all  he  had  taken  had  been  accepted,  the  Syrian  cap- 


194  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

tain  reentered  his  chariot  and  the  party  waited  for 
the  return  of  the  burden  bearers.  Isaac  looked  after 
the  trio  questioningly. 

"There  be  many  Sons  of  the  Prophet,"  he  rea- 
soned with  himself,  "would  their  leader,  the  Man  of 
God,  honor  two  above  the  rest?  Nay,  it  seemeth 
not  so  to  me.  Somehow  I  like  not  this  man  Gehazi. 
Never  once,  in  all  of  our  dealings,  hath  he  looked 
my  master  or  me  straight  in  the  eye !" 

At  the  same  moment  another  mind  was  dealing 
with  the  same  problem.  Gehazi,  elated  at  Naaman's 
generosity,  had  been  likewise  perplexed.  To  receive 
a  present  was  one  thing,  to  dispose  of  it  quite  an- 
other, especially  in  view  of  the  two  servants  who 
carried  the  treasure  and  before  whom  he  must  act 
the  part  of  Elisha's  messenger  as  he  had  represented 
himself  to  be.  At  the  tower  in  the  vineyard  at  the 
foot  of  the  hill  he  dismissed  the  men  and  took  the 
burden  himself,  staggering  under  its  weight. 
Within  the  house  he  hastily  disposed  of  his  new 
possessions  and  betook  himself  to  his  master,  won- 
dering if  his  absence  had  been  noted  and  striving  to 
assume  an  air  of  innocence  by  busying  himself  about 
necessary  tasks. 

Elisha's  keen  eye  rested  upon  the  guilty  coun- 
tenance: "Whence  comest  thou,  Gehazi?" 

"Thy  servant  went  no  whither." 

The  prophet's  righteous  indignation  was  kindled 
at  the  falsehood.  "Went  not  my  heart  with  thee 


I 
REWARDS  195 

when  the  man  turned  back  from  his  chariot  to  meet 
thee?" 

The  fear  in  the  craven  face  opposite  told  its  own 
story.  The  prophet's  wrath  overflowed.  To  have 
upheld  the  honor  of  the  Lord  of  Hosts  and  then 
this  misrepresentation!  "Is  it  a  time  to  receive 
money  and  to  receive  garments  and  olive-yards  and 
vineyards  and  sheep  and  oxen  and  men  servants  and 
maid  servants?  The  leprosy  therefore  of  Naaman 
shall  cleave  unto  thee  and  unto  thy  seed  forever." 

Gehazi  cowered,  weeping  and  pleading,  but  the 
stern  edict  had  gone  forth.  Already  he  knew  him- 
self to  be  the  loathsome  object  Naaman  had  once 
been,  and  at  the  same  hour  when  Isaac  lay  down  to 
sleep  with  a  smile  upon  his  face,  Gehazi  rent  his 
garments  and  cried  aloud  outside  the  gate  through 
which  Greed  had  driven  him. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 
PLANS 

NAAMAN,  freed  from  the  bondage  of  physical 
suffering,  made  plans  for  the  future  with  all  the 
abandon  of  a  joyous  child.  The  first  day  of  the  re- 
turn journey  he  talked  much  with  Isaac,  whom  he 
graciously  permitted  to  ride  beside  him,  the  target 
for  both  the  flattery  and  the  malice  of  his  less- 
favored  associates. 

"There  remaineth,  Isaac,  most  of  the  treasure  we 
brought  to  this  land,  despite  our  trifling  gifts  to 
King  Jehoram  and  to  the  prophet's  servant  for  his 
master's  almsgiving.  Had  it  not  been  for  thee  I 
should  not  now  be  healed.  Behold,  the  gift  is  thine." 

Isaac  bowed  low.  "Nay,  my  lord,  for  had  it  not 
been  for  the  little  maid  we  should  not  now  be  in 
Israel." 

The  great  man  pondered.  "The  maid  shall  be 
suitably  rewarded,  but  what  desirest  thou  for  thy- 
self?" 

Thus  encouraged  the  young  soldier  dared  to 
speak  of  what  had  been  in  his  mind  since  that  day 
of  healing  at  the  Jordan.  "Yea,  my  lord,  much 
more  than  thou  wilt  wish  to  give,  but  if,  oh  my  lord, 
I  have  found  favor  in  thy  sight,  grant,  I  pray  thee, 

196 


PLANS  197 

that  Miriam  be  allowed  to  return  to  Israel  and  to 
her  home  as  she  longeth  to  do,  and  that  thou  shouldst 
also  allow  to  return  with  the  maid  her  brother  Ben- 
jamin, a  friend  to  whom  I  am  much  indebted,  but 
who,  being  a  shepherd,  was  carried  into  captivity 
with  his  flock  by  Eleazer's  band  about  the  time  I 
took  Miriam." 

"But  for  thyself,  Isaac,  what  for  thyself?" 

The  soldier  gazed  beseechingly  at  the  older  man. 
"For  myself  do  I  ask  these  things.  Do  they  not 
mean  the  reward  of  a  conscience  at  peace?  And 
that  is  something,  my  lord,  I  have  not  had  this  long 
time." 

Naaman  was  silent  a  moment,  lost  in  thought. 
At  last  he  spoke :  "It  shall  be  done,  Isaac,  even  as 
thou  desirest,  but  more.  This  treasure  will  I  divide 
between  thee  and  the  maid,  and  when  she  is  old 
enough  she  shall  be  given  thee  in  marriage.  I  see 
thou  hast  a  tender  affection  for  her.  It  is  well." 

With  a  gesture  of  dismissal  Naaman  was  turn- 
ing away,  but  Isaac  caught  hold  of  the  fringe  of  his 
garment,  speaking  with  unmistakable  earnestness. 
"Thou  hast  spoken  truly,  my  master.  I  love  the 
maid  as  she  cannot  now  comprehend  and  she  loveth 
me,  but  not  in  the  way  I  would  wish.  There  be  many 
kinds  of  love,  and  when  she  is  old  enough  to  con- 
sider such  things  I  pray  thee  help  her  to  be  happy." 

Naaman  could  not  hide  his  amusement.  "I  see, 
Isaac,  that  I  was  not  wrong  when  I  accused  thy 


198  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

good  looks  of  leading  thee  into  experiences.  Thou 
speakest  of  love  wisely." 

The  amusement  faded  into  seriousness.  "Oft 
have  I  thought,  Isaac,  that  thou  hast  shown  dis- 
cretion far  beyond  thy  years.  As  thou  knowest, 
my  steward  groweth  old.  In  time  he  must  be  sup- 
planted by  a  younger  man,  and  even  now  he  needeth 
to  lean  upon  the  stronger  arm  of  youth.  Where  can 
I  find  one  more  diligent  and  less  self-seeking  than 
thou?  Behold,  from  henceforth  thou  shalt  be  no 
longer  a  soldier,  but  greater  responsibility  shall  be 
given  into  thine  hand.  In  time  thou  mayest  be  over 
all  of  my  substance  as  was  thy  father  before  thee." 

Isaac  stammered  his  thanks,  but  its  lack  of  en- 
thusiasm irritated  his  master.  "Carest  thou  not 
for  the  reward  I  would  give  thee?  Peradventure 
thou  hast  some  other  request.  Speak  and  conceal  it 
not." 

And  Isaac  spoke,  too  utterly  miserable  to  be  pru- 
dent. "Could  I  be  born  and  grow  up  in  thy  house, 
my  master,  and  not  wish  to  be  even  as  thou  art,  a 
man  of  war?  Could  I  be  thine  armor-bearer  and 
not  feel  that  war  is  more  glorious  than  peace?  Could 
I  be  promoted  to  the  captaincy  of  a  small  band  and 
not  wish  to  lead  a  greater  ?  Could  I  follow  thee  and 
not  wish  to  be  like  thee?  Thy  wealth  thou  hast  in- 
herited, but  the  affection  of  the  people  thou  hast  won 
by  thine  own  valor,  thine  own  worth.  I  had  dreamed 
even  of  this.  Once  I  gained  the  favor  of  Naaman, 


PLANS  199 

Captain  of  the  Host.  Henceforth  thou  dost  ask  me 
to  seek  only  the  favor  of  Naaman,  the  rich  man." 
He  ceased  speaking,  his  breast  heaving,  tears  in  his 
eyes. 

Naaman  stared  at  the  dejected  figure  with  in- 
credulity and  growing  displeasure.  Why  all  this 
show  of  emotion  over  a  benefit  he  had  thought  to 
confer?  His  kindness  was  misconstrued.  His 
thought  fulness  was  considered  intrusive.  He  was 
defied  and  rebuked  by  a  servant.  Yet  he  might  have 
expected  ingratitude.  It  was  the  way  of  the  world. 
He  had  imagined  that  Isaac  was  different,  but  he 
had  been  disillusioned.  His  tones  held  the  sadness 
of  disappointed  hope. 

"I  had  believed  thou  wert  glad  to  serve  me,  Isaac, 
but  thou  art  like  the  others:  thou  wouldst  rather 
serve  thyself.  It  is  well  that  I  should  have  learned 
this  before  making  any  mistake." 

With  a  disdainful  gesture  he  turned  from  his  one- 
time favorite.  Isaac,  shocked  into  full  understand- 
ihg  of  the  mischief  his  tongue  had  wrought,  dropped 
to  the  rear  of  the  chariot  and  by  degrees  to  the  rear 
of  the  company,  affecting  not  to  see  the  curious 
and  surprised  glances  with  which  his  action  was 
greeted  by  his  companions.  Lemuel  rode  forward 
hastily.  Passing  Isaac  he  leaned  from  his  saddle, 
speaking  in  so  low  a  voice  that  even  the  soldier  near- 
est could  not  catch  the  words,  much  as  he  tried : 

"Thou  fool!     Knowest  thou  not  his  imperious 


200  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

temper  ?  Couldst  thou  not  bear  with  his  impatience  ? 
Thou  shouldst  have  considered  only  the  reward. 
Thou  hast  had  thy  chance  and  lost  it.  Next  to 
thee  he  hath  seemed  to  regard  me  with  favor.  Per- 
adventure  the  opportunity  thou  hast  thrown  away 
will  be  mine.  Behold,  I  go  to  do  his  bidding." 

He  pushed  his  way  to  a  place  just  behind  the 
chariot,  where  he  rode  for  a  time,  respectful  and  at- 
tentive. Naaman,  saddened  and  perplexed  by  Isaac's 
outburst,  accepted  Lemuel's  attentions  with  a  cer- 
tain degree  of  grateful  appreciation  which  gradually 
became  relief  and  even  pleasure,  and  when  evening 
fell,  Lemuel's  tent  was  pitched  next  Naaman's,  in 
the  very  center  of  the  encampment,  while  Isaac  kept 
to  the  outer  circle.  The  evening  meal  was  long  since 
eaten;  the  bustle  of  the  camp  had  quieted  into  the 
soundlessness  of  night;  not  a  figure  moved  among 
the  dark  tent-shapes  and  masses  of  camp  parapher- 
nalia. Even  the  pack  animals  were  quiet,  but  hour 
after  hour  Isaac  lay  awake. 

The  stars  looked  at  him  with  far-off,  unsym- 
pathetic faces.  He  was  bitterly  humiliated.  Why 
had  he  so  rashly  thrown  away  his  master's  favor? 
Why  had  he  treated  his  future  advancement  as  a 
child  would  lightly  discard  a  withered  flower?  It 
was  not  merely  of  himself  he  should  think,  but  what 
would  Miriam  say  when  she  knew  ?  The  impetuous 
youth  who  had  never  faltered  before  a  foe  quailed 
now,  in  imagination,  before  the  clear  vision  of  a 


PLANS  201 

maid's  disapproval.  And  then  the  remedy  flashed 
through  his  mind.  Discarding  it  at  first  as  absurd 
and  impossible,  he  ended  by  weighing  carefully 
reasons  for  and  against.  At  last  he  rose  and 
stealthily  went  for  his  tired  horse.  No  watchman 
questioned  his  action  or  interfered,  but  the  signifi- 
cance of  this  did  not  occur  to  him  until  afterward. 

Leading  the  animal  apart  from  the  camp  he 
stopped  in  the  shadow  of  a  great  rock.  He  was  fac- 
ing the  road  which  led  to  Damascus.  A  little  farther 
along  there  crossed  it  the  no  less  important  highway 
which  went  down  into  Egypt.  It  was  well  known 
to  every  traveler  and  each  twist  and  turn  of  it  had 
been  familiar  to  Isaac  since  his  scouting  days.  He 
would  have  no  difficulty  finding  his  way.  Egypt  was 
his  destination.  There  would  he  be  a  soldier.  The 
ruling  power  was  always  anxious  to  recruit  its  forces 
with  any  foreigner  willing  to  serve,  and  how  much 
more  would  he  be  welcomed  when  it  was  known  that 
his  father  had  been  an  Egyptian! 

Although  the  decision  was  made,  the  young  man 
hesitated.  To  be  a  soldier  for  pay,  and  pay  alone! 
To  fight,  not  to  defend  the  weak  and  repulse  the 
strong  but  to  uphold  the  quarrels  of  a  master  he 
should  hate!  To  leave  the  impulsive,  impatient  but 
kindly  and  generous  Naaman,  the  only  master  he 
had  ever  known !  To  cut  himself  off  from  jealous, 
loving  Milcah  and  repudiate  the  home  of  his  mother! 
Most  of  all,  never  to  see  the  maid  again!  What 


202  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

would  she  think  of  this  desertion  ?  He  shuddered  at 
the  word,  yet  it  was  that  despicable  thing — desertion 
of  duty.  He  wavered  an  instant,  then  his  face  set 
into  lines  of  bitterness.  By  whatever  name  it  might 
be  called  it  was  necessary.  Was  he  not  already  dis- 
graced? Had  he  not  foolishly  and  without  just 
cause  forfeited  his  master's  favor  ?  Did  he  deserve 
or  could  he  expect  sympathy  or  even  respect  from 
Milcah  and  Miriam? 

Still  he  did  not  start.  Before  his  mind's  eye  passed 
quickly  a  panorama  of  all  his  dreams,  now  brought 
to  naught.  Brushing  a  mist  from  his  eyes  he  sighed 
and  mounted  the  fiery  little  steed  of  the  desert,  once 
a  gift  from  his  master.  Motionless  he  sat  in  the 
shadow,  staring,  for  down  the  road,  like  a  moving 
picture,  came  a  band  of  mounted  men.  Was  his 
dream  coming  true?  Was  this  the  phantom  com- 
mand he  had  often  seen  in  imagination  ?  And  then 
he  came  back  to  realities  with  a  start.  His  horse 
seemed  to  feel  the  suspicion  which  passed  through 
his  rider's  mind  and  was  instantly  alert,  responsive, 
trembling  slightly,  but  eager  for  the  fray. 

On  the  company  came.  There  was  no  mistaking 
the  camels  and  the  armed  men,  though  not  a  sound 
of  their  advance  came  to  the  sensitive  horse  and  to 
the  man  who  crouched  in  the  shadows,  listening.  It 
was  this  silence  which  proclaimed  their  errand.  They 
were  robbers  coming  by  night  with  the  feet  of  their 
animals  muffled,  their  object  being  no  other  than 


PLANS  203 

Naaman's  treasure,  upon  which  they  hoped  to  pounce 
while  the  camp  slumbered,  exhausted  by  a  hard  day's 
travel.  And  then  it  occurred  to  Isaac  for  the  first 
time  that  the  watchmen  should  have  seen  and  re- 
ported. He  remembered  that  he  had  noticed  no 
passing  to  and  fro  on  the  usual  rounds.  Was  there 
a  traitor  within  the  camp  ?  But  he  had  no  time  for 
investigation.  He  lifted  his  face  to  the  stars  for  an 
instant  and  through  the  cool  stillness  of  the  night 
sent  a  long,  weird  call. 

It  was  the  Syrian  battle  cry.  The  camp  responded 
without  delay,  and  Isaac,  dashing  out  of  his  shad- 
owed retreat,  led  the  first  charge  against  the  on- 
coming robbers,  made  desperate  by  the  miscarriage 
of  their  plans  and  the  surprise  of  the  attack.  It  was 
a  longer  fight  than  might  have  been  anticipated. 
Their  numbers  were  almost  evenly  matched  and  both 
sides  felt  that  so  much  wealth  was  worth  fighting 
for.  Naaman's  party,  however,  had  the  handicap 
of  weariness,  for  its  leader  was  pushing  toward 
Damascus  at  a  forced  speed.  Isaac  never  under- 
stood how  it  was  that  he  and  his  master  and  Lemuel 
became  separated  from  the  rest  and  cornered.  He 
only  knew,  with  the  clearness  of  vision  which  comes 
in  a  time  of  emergency,  that  the  chances  were  all 
against  them  and  in  favor  of  the  robbers. 

In  that  moment,  also,  there  swept  over  him  the 
certainty  that  he  had  never  cared  for  Naaman  the 
soldier  and  even  less  for  Naaman  the  rich  man,  but 


204  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

that  Naaman  his  master  was  dearer  to  him  than  all 
the  world  except  the  little  maid.  He  saw  the  battle- 
line  draw  closer  and  closer  about  them.  He  noted 
the  spear-thrust  which  Lemuel  avoided  and  which 
Naaman,  though  he  did  not  see,  would  soon  feel  un- 
less, by  a  quick  movement  on  his  own  part — in 
Isaac's  side  he  felt  a  sharp  and  agonizing  pain  as  if 
he  were  being  burned  with  red  hot  lead.  His 
strength  suddenly  forsook  him.  Crumpled  up  on 
the  rocky  road,  held  fast  in  the  grip  of  a  dull  torture 
and  a  nauseating  weakness,  the  struggle  surged 
around  and  over  him  and  he  cared  not,  nor  knew 
when  it  ceased. 

It  was  long  past  daylight  when  his  dull  eyes 
opened  upon  his  surroundings  and  his  stiff  lips  tried 
to  frame  a  question.  It  was  Naaman  himself  who 
bent  over  him  tenderly  and  answered  with  a  matter- 
of-factness  in  itself  reassuring: 

"Three  of  our  men  have  we  lost  and  four  beside 
thyself  are  dangerously  wounded.  The  others  are 
able  to  be  about  the  camp  and  to  minister  to  the  suf- 
ferers. We  shall  rest  here  for  two  or  three  days  and 
then  resume  the  journey  slowly.  Yea,  the  treasure 
is  safe  and  we  have  buried  many  of  our  enemies. 
But  rest  thou  and  so  shalt  thy  strength  return." 

The  speaker  gave  his  patient  a  drink  of  something 
that  was  cool  and  refreshing  and  bathed  his  wound 
with  a  mixture  of  oil  and  wine  which  was  supposed 
to  have  great  virtue  in  soothing  and  healing.  But 


PLANS  205 

Isaac  could  not  rest  until  one  more  query  was  an- 
swered. 

"And  thou?" 

His  articulation  was  feeble,  but  it  was  understood. 
As  his  master  stooped  to  reply  two  scalding  drops 
fell  upon  Isaac's  hand  and  the  words  came  chok- 
ingly : 

"Safe— thanks  to  thy  fidelity." 

And  then  Naaman  did  a  strange  thing  for  one 
who  was  merely  a  master.  He  gathered  Isaac  within 
his  arms  and  wept  openly  over  him. 

"That  I  should  have  forgotten  how  high  flame 
the  fires  of  youth;  its  ambition  and  its  courage  and 
its  boldness ;  its  longing  for  achievement  and  its  im- 
patience of  restraint.  Yet  of  these  is  manhood  born. 
Ah,  if  thou  stayest  with  me,  Isaac,  I  will  remember, 
yea,  I  will." 

The  younger  man  looked  up  into  his  face  won- 
deringly.  Stay  with  him !  What  did  he  mean  ?  He 
was  not  going  to  Egypt.  Not  now.  He  was  going 
back  to  the  little  maid,  and  home.  He  was,  however, 
too  weak  and  too  weary  to  make  explanations,  so  he 
closed  his  eyes  and  when  he  opened  them  again  the 
stars  were  out  once  more  and  his  master  still  lingered 
beside  him. 


CHAPTER  XIX 
HOME 

IN  the  House  of  Naaman  at  Damascus  all  was 
anxiety.  As  soon  as  the  days  were  accomplished 
when  the  caravan  might  return,  a  watchman  was 
stationed  upon  the  roof  to  give  tidings  of  its  ar- 
rival, but  day  succeeded  day  without  sight  of  the 
party  itself  or  even  a  messenger.  At  least  twenty 
times  between  dawn  and  sunset  did  Miriam  run 
lightly  up  the  stone  staircase  to  her  own  favorite 
spot.  Shading  her  eyes  with  her  hand  she  would 
gaze  long  into  the  grayish  distances  and  then,  sigh- 
ing, descend  to  her  mistress,  who,  weary  with  wait- 
ing and  unutterably  distressed  at  the  delay,  had 
ceased  asking  questions  with  her  lips  and  now  asked 
them  only  with  her  eyes.  When  no  gladness  ap- 
peared in  Miriam's  expressive  countenance,  Adah 
would  sink  back  upon  her  silken  cushions  with  one 
brief  exclamation: 

"It  is  as  before.  We  could  expect  nothing  else." 
Not  even  the  little  maid's  confident  cheerfulness 
could  rouse  her  to  hope.  Added  to  the  gloom  of  her 
mistress,  Miriam  experienced  other  trials.  Her 
position  in  the  household  began  to  be  somewhat  un- 
comfortable. She  could  not  fail  to  be  aware  of 

206 


HOME  207 

whispered  remarks,  slighting,  scornful,  amused.  If 
a  visit  to  the  prophet  who  dwelt  in  the  Land  of  Is- 
rael were  all  that  was  needed  for  her  master's  res- 
toration, why  had  he  not  returned  ere  this  with  the 
healing  predicted?  The  delay  was  proof  positive 
of  the  failure  of  his  mission.  And  who  had  doubted 
that  it  would  fail?  Certainly  not  they.  Had  they 
not  said  all  along  that  if  Baal  and  Rimmon  and 
Chemosh  and  Tammuz  and  all  the  other  gods  could 
do  nothing,  was  it  not  highly  improbable  that  this 
Jehovah  of  Israel,  of  whom  the  maid  was  always 
talking,  could  do  more  ?  And  the  idea  of  one  in  her 
place  offering  advice  to  her  master! 

It  was  on  a  particularly  trying  day  that  anticipa- 
tion was  changed  to  certainty.  It  needed  not  the  cry 
of  the  watchman  nor  the  tense  excitement  with 
which  the  household  responded  to  apprize  Miriam, 
for  in  her  own  particular  lookout  on  the  roof  she  had 
observed  for  herself.  Far  in  the  distance  she  had 
noted  moving  specks  which  could  be  no  other  than 
a  caravan.  Fascinated,  hopeful,  she  had  watched 
its  approach  until  assured  from  appearances  that  it 
might  be  Naaman's  party.  She  had  seen  the  sudden 
paralysis  of  Damascus  traffic  and  had  heard  the 
exultant  cry  of  the  multitude,  two  marks  of  respect 
accorded  only  the  great  and  the  popular.  It  must  be 
Naaman's  party !  Slowly  and  with  dignity  the  pro- 
cession moved  through  the  narrow,  crowded  streets 
amid  the  cheering  throngs  and  came  to  a  halt  before 


208  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

the  arched  gateway.  With  wildly  beating  heart 
Miriam  knew  that  it  was  Naaman's  party. 

Peeping  over  the  parapet  surrounding  the  roof, 
she  noted  that  the  household  had  hurried  into  festal 
garb  and  gone  forth  to  meet  its  master  in  the  solemn 
joy  of  the  dance,  accompanied  by  the  music  of  silver 
trumpets  and  cymbals,  stringed  instruments  and 
timbrels.  Her  place  was  with  them,  but  surprise 
and  dismay  held  her  motionless  for  a  long  moment, 
then  she  bounded  down  the  steps  and  ran,  panting, 
to  the  apartments  of  her  mistress.  Adah,  in  excite- 
ment scarcely  less  than  Miriam's  but  decidedly  more 
controlled,  stood  by  the  doorway,  trembling  and 
waiting.  Miriam,  with  white  face,  clutched  her  gar- 
ment and  her  voice  sounded  strange  even  to  herself. 

"My  mistress,  knowest  thou?    Knowest  thou?" 

She  could  proceed  no  further.  In  Adah's  eyes  the 
light  of  happy  expectancy  slowly  faded — and  it  had 
shown  there  momentarily.  In  its  stead  came  the 
old,  deep  despair.  Dropping  back  a  pace  she  cov- 
ered her  face  with  her  hands. 

"I  should  have  known — oh  I  think  I  did  know — 
yea,  I  knew." 

Miriam,  in  utter  misery,  gazed  at  her  fixedly. 
"Thou  knewest  and  didst  not  tell  me.  Thou  didst 
wait  and  let  me  find  out  for  myself  that  his  horse 
is  led  and  riderless  and  that  they  carry  a  prostrate 
figure !  Someone  hath  told  thee  and  thou  hast  con- 
cealed it  from  me.  Oh,  how  couldst  thou?" 


HOME  209 

Adah  moaned.  'That  he  could  not  be  healed  I 
felt,  I  knew,  but  that  it  is  with  him  as  thou  sayest — 
Miriam,  art  thou  sure?" 

But  Miriam  was  gone.  With  swift  steps  she 
passed  various  members  of  the  elated  household. 
With  unseeing  eyes  she  rushed  past  its  master  on 
his  way  to  his  wife's  apartments,  and  though  he 
stopped  and  spoke  graciously  she  noted  not  it  was 
he.  Her  objective  was  a  room  in  another  courtyard 
where  the  figure  she  had  seen  was  being  tenderly 
cared  for.  Here  she  knelt  beside  Milcah  and 
stroked  Isaac's  hand,  openly  weeping  over  him; 
took  from  the  servant  the  cooling  drink  and  admin- 
istered it  herself;  listened  to  an  account  of  the  bat- 
tle with  the  robbers  and  forgot  to  ask  for  Naaman, 
and  left  the  room  only  when  she  and  Milcah  were 
satisfied  that  it  was  quite  safe  to  leave  him  in  the 
hands  of  other  attendants  for  the  time  being. 

She  was  soon  summoned  to  the  apartments  of  her 
mistress,  where  she  prostrated  herself  before  her 
master,  but  he  gently  raised  her. 

"Look  upon  me,  little  maid,  and  behold  what  thy 
faith  hath  wrought." 

Timidly  she  raised  her  eyes  as  she  was  bidden  and 
the  look  lingered.  To  behold  him  thus  restored! 
Around  the  mouth  which  life  had  molded  into  stern- 
ness played  a  little  smile,  to  which  the  lips  of  his 
wife  and  her  handmaiden  likewise  responded. 

"Well  did  I  know  that  Jehovah  would  do  this," 


210  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

Miriam  exclaimed,  delightedly,  "if  my  lord  would 
but  go  to  the  Man  of  God  who  dwelleth  in  Samaria 
in  the  Land  of  Israel." 

Adah,  with  the  lassitude  all  gone,  drew  Miriam 
down  beside  her  while  the  story  was  told  from  be- 
ginning to  end,  and  the  little  maid  heard  with  such 
great  happiness  that  the  attitude  and  the  recital 
seemed  the  most  natural  thing  in  the  world  and  not 
at  all,  as  it  was,  an  unusual  piece  of  condescension. 
Nor  did  either  master  or  mistress  appear  to  remem- 
ber. The  tale  finished  and  questions  asked  and  an- 
swered with  entire  frankness,  Naaman  suddenly 
propounded  a  query. 

"And  now  what  wouldst  thou,  little  maid?  Be- 
hold, a  gift  is  thine." 

Into  Miriam's  eyes  crept  a  certain  wist  fulness 
and  they  entreated  her  mistress.  Adah  turned  her 
own  away.  Like  the  sharp  thrust  of  a  dagger  she 
remembered  the  girl's  wail  on  the  day  Naaman  had 
started  to  Israel  and  her  own  words  of  promise.  Yet 
how  could  they  let  her  go  ?  Oh,  anything  but  this ! 

Miriam's  reply  was  not,  however,  what  was  ex- 
pected by  either  of  her  auditors.  "A  gift,  my  lord? 
Nay,  for  I  sought  only  thy  good  because  I  loved  my 
mistress  and  thee." 

Naaman's  keen  eyes  searched  her  face.  "We  ex- 
press our  thanks  by  a  gift,  little  maid.  Speak  thou 
and  be  not  afraid." 

"Then,  my  lord,  let  thy  gift,  I  pray  thee,  come  to 


HOME  211 

Isaac,  who  deserveth  it  more.  He  it  is  who  hath 
brought  this  to  pass  more  than  thy  handmaiden. 
Thou  wouldst  not  have  listened  to  me,  yet  wert  thou 
ready  to  hear  the  servant  in  whom  thou  delightest." 

Naaman  toyed  with  the  hilt  of  the  buckler  which 
hung  at  his  girdle.  Strangely  unselfish  were  these 
Israelites.  First  the  prophet,  then  Isaac,  now 
Miriam.  "Yea,"  he  said  aloud,  "and  Isaac  shalt 
have  his  reward,  but  something  must  be  given  also 
to  thee.  Speak!  What  wouldst  thou?" 

Thus  importuned  the  girl  hesitatingly  voiced  her 
desires :  "Thou  knowest,  my  lord,  that  with  great 
anguish  of  spirit  have  I  thought  upon  the  distress  of 
my  father  and  mother,  bereft  of  both  son  and 
daughter,  and  that  with  great  longing  have  I  de- 
sired to  know  how  it  fareth  with  them.  If,  there- 
fore, I  have  found  favor  in  thy  sight,  I  pray  that 
thou  wilt  allow  my  brother,  Benjamin,  who  is  a 
captive  shepherd  in  the  Syrian  hill  country,  to  re- 
turn unto  them." 

Adah  drew  a  sharp  breath  of  surprise  and  relief, 
but  Naaman  was  not  satisfied.  "Yea,  thy  brother 
shalt  go.  Isaac  hath  already  asked  this  thing,  but  in 
Benjamin's  hand  he  shall  carry  a  gift  to  thy  parents. 
I  have  told  thee  that  but  a  little  is  gone  of  all  that 
we  took  into  Israel.  What  wouldst  thou?" 

Miriam's  decision  was  prompt.  "If  thou  couldst 
find  it  in  thine  heart  to  give  him  some  of  the  sheep. 
Thou  knowest  he  hath  tended  them  until  they  are 


212  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

dear  unto  him,  and  with  a  few,  my  father's  flock 
could  again  be  restored." 

Naaman  hastened  to  grant  the  request.  "A  few 
sheep  would  be  but  small  recompense  for  all  that  I 
owe  thee.  He  shall  take  the  flock  with  its  increase. 
I  will  send  a  messenger  to  the  palace  and  the  king 
will  give  orders  to  his  servants  that  this  be  done." 

Miriam  knelt  before  him,  her  face  transfigured 
with  joy.  "So  good  art  thou  to  thy  handmaiden, 
my  lord.  I  thank  thee,"  and  slipped  hastily  away 
while  Naaman  and  his  wife  conversed  long  and 
earnestly  on  a  subject  Adah  presented  and  which 
appeared  to  be  of  concern  to  the  little  maid,  since 
her  name  was  frequently  mentioned. 

"Let  us  consider  well,"  advised  the  man,  gravely, 
"and  if  thou  art  of  the  same  mind  a  week  or  so 
hence—" 

But  evidently  she  was,  for  Miriam  was  again 
summoned  to  appear  before  her  master  and  mis- 
tress, and  in  a  maze  of  bewildered  delight  soon  after- 
ward sought  Isaac  on  the  veranda,  where  his  couch 
had  been  placed. 

"And  when  I  am  daughter  to  the  House  of  Naa- 
man, thou  who  hast  taught  me  so  much  must  teach 
me  yet  more,"  she  said  with  smiling  confidence  in 
the  help  which  had  never  been  refused. 

She  was  surprised  at  his  averted  head,  his  long 
silence.  When  he  did  speak  it  was  slowly  and  with 
seeming  difficulty. 


HOME  213 

"When  thou  art  daughter  to  the  House  of  Naa- 
man  it  will  not  be  my  right  to  teach  thee  anything. 
Then  will  I  come  into  thy  presence  only  to  do  thy 
bidding.  I  shall  be  thy  servant  even  as  I  am  servant 
to  my  master  and  mistress." 

The  smile  left  Miriam's  face.  She  put  her  hand 
on  his  arm  and  he  covered  it  with  his  larger  one. 

"But,  Isaac,"  she  began,  in  a  dismayed  little  voice, 
"why,  Isaac — "  and  got  no  further,  for  he  went  on 
earnestly : 

"But  I  am  glad  for  thee,  Miriam,  truly  glad. 
Thou  art  entirely  worthy.  Sweet  art  thou  and  re- 
fined and  teachable,  and  with  the  advantages  they 
will  give  thee  thou  shalt  be  second  to  none  at  the 
court.  They  have  chosen  wisely,  much  as  they 
owe  thee,  and  thou  shouldst  be  grateful  and  pleased 
at  the  honor." 

He  smiled  at  her  encouragingly,  trying  to  steady 
the  voice  which  sounded  so  unlike  his  own,  and  went 
on  telling  her  all  that  the  new  position  would  mean 
in  responsibility  and  opportunity  and  happiness. 
Very  quietly  she  sat  listening,  her  hand  still  in  his, 
but  when  Milcah  came,  bringing  some  nourishment 
for  the  invalid,  Miriam  slipped  away  to  her  favorite 
nook,  trying  to  think  calmly.  Somehow  joy  had 
fled. 

It  had  gone  for  Isaac  also.  Over  and  over  he 
told  himself  how  glad  he  was  for  her,  and  over  and 
over  his  heart  mocked  him  with  its  own  desolation. 


214  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

Never  again  would  she  come  to  him  with  her  in- 
nocent confidences ;  never  again  bring  him  her  prob- 
lems to  be  solved;  never  again  would  he  have  the 
sweetness  of  knowing  that  he  was  first  to  her !  And 
that  was  what  he  wanted ;  wanted  it  more  intensely 
than  he  had  ever  wanted  anything  in  his  life.  Once 
he  had  craved  the  affection  of  another  maiden.  Now 
he  wondered  that  he  should  have  been  carried  away 
by  a  fancy.  That  was  a  dream,  an  impossibility. 
This  was  reality  and  likewise  an  impossibility,  and 
Isaac  was  unutterably  wretched. 

For  a  week  Miriam  avoided  him,  as  he  knew  she 
would  henceforth,  and  then  she  sought  him  once 
more  as  he  moped  in  the  courtyard.  It  was  the  same 
Miriam  he  had  always  known.  As  if  they  had  parted 
but  an  hour  ago  she  plunged  into  the  continuation 
of  her  tale. 

"I  am  not  going  to  be  daughter  to  the  House  of 
Naaman." 

He  was  startled.  "Miriam!  What  right  hast 
thou  to  choose?  Thy  master  and  mistress  hath 
spoken.  Naught  is  left  for  thee  but  to  obey." 

"We  can  always  choose  between  right  and  wrong, 
Isaac." 

He  regarded  her  helplessly.  "But  what  will  thy 
mistress  say?  She  will  be  very  wroth  with  thee." 

Miriam  shook  her  head.  "Nay,  for  I  have  already 
explained,  and  she  is  not  wroth.  She  laughed." 

He  could  not  understand.    "Laughed ?  At  what?" 


HOME  215 

"I  know  not,"  with  a  puzzled  frown.  "What 
other  answer  could  I  make  to  her  questions  and  her 
planning  but  that  I  could  not  be  daughter  in  the 
house  where  thou  art  only  a  servant?" 

A  long  moment  of  silence.  One  searching  glance 
and  Isaac's  thrill  was  strangled  by  disappointment. 
Quite  frankly  her  eyes  had  looked  into  his.  Very 
matter-of-fact  were  the  comments  she  was  making 
upon  the  sacredness  of  friendship  and  the  gratitude 
she  felt  for  his  great  and  constant  kindnesses.  He 
resisted  the  impulse  to  laugh  as  her  mistress  had 
done.  The  barbaric  joy  which  her  words  had  awak- 
ened died  prematurely.  In  a  little  while  he  was  the 
kindly,  serious  Isaac  of  her  former  acquaintance. 
He  drew  her  down  on  the  stone  seat  beside  him, 
speaking  in  a  tone  of  authority  he  had  never  used  to 
her  before. 

"Sit  thou  here  while  I  speak  plainly  to  thee. 
Thinkest  thou  I  shall  let  thee  ruin  thy  future  for  the 
sake  of  what  thou  canst  not  understand?  Shall  I 
take  advantage  of  thy  innocent  generosity  to  thine 
own  hurt?  Am  I  so  weak  and  my  friendship  so 
poor,  so  mean  that  I  will  allow  thy  inexperience  to 
deprive  thee  of  that  which  thou  dost  so  richly  de- 
serve?" 

He  spared  neither  himself  nor  her.  He  told  her 
of  the  great  riches  of  the  House  of  Naaman,  of  its 
power,  of  all  the  advantages  which  would  be  hers. 
He  reminded  her  that  this  was  a  childless  household; 


216  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

that  its  mistress  was  lonely,  needing  a  daughter's 
companionship ;  that  he  and  Milcah  would  be  proud 
of  her  in  the  new  relationship,  and  that  she  would 
be  able  to  accomplish  much  good  for  the  name  of 
Jehovah,  her  God. 

She  was  distressed  at  his  reception  of  her  tidings. 
She  wept  at  the  sternness  of  his  tone,  but  her  de- 
cision remained  unchanged. 

"Thinkest  thou  I  have  not  thought  of  all  these 
things,  Isaac?  Have  I  not  been  to  the  court  with 
my  mistress  and  beheld  its  glory  and  its  folly?  It 
would  be  wickedness  to  me.  To  be  daughter  in  this 
household  would  not  mean  to  give  more  time  or 
greater  service  to  my  mistress,  but  less  of  both,  for 
would  not  my  duties  be  increased?  More  than  this, 
as  daughter  here  I  must  bow  to  Rimmon,  but  as 
handmaiden  I  can  serve  Jehovah.  Thinkest  thou 
the  Lord,  who  looketh  upon  the  heart,  would  be  un- 
mindful of  my  deceit?  Nor,  as  I  have  told  thee, 
would  I  thus  ungratefully  treat  my  friend.  Thinkest 
thou  I  could  be  happy  were  I  to  take  precedence  of 
thee?" 

Isaac  was  sternly  resolved.  "Miriam,  thou  must 
take  heed  to  what  I  say.  Quickly,  before  it  is  too 
late,  thou  must  go  to  thy  mistress  and  say — "  but 
Miriam  had  gone. 

In  her  place  stood  Milcah,  shocked  and  reprov- 
ing, as  is  the  right  of  elder  sisters.  "I  was  passing 
through  the  courtyard  shrubbery  and  heard.  That 


HOME  217 

she  should  tell  a  man  what  she  told  thee!  And  at 
her  age!" 

Isaac's  serenity  unexpectedly  returned.  "That  it 
should  be  'at  her  age,'  "  mocking  Milcah's  tone,  "is 
the  only  sad  part  of  it  to  me.  Would  she  were  two 
or  three  years  older !  Would  she  had  whispered  it, 
hesitatingly  and  with  a  blush !  Then  would  it  have 
pleased  me  better,  but  as  it  is,  she  knoweth  not  what 
she  hath  said,  and  when  she  fmdeth  out  she  will  not 
mean  it." 

Milcah's  sharp  glance  encountered  one  of  the 
maid  servants  lingering  within  a  doorway,  smiling 
upon  Isaac.  The  sight  infuriated  her,  and  by  con- 
trast, Miriam's  friendly  admissions  appeared  the 
embodiment  of  frank  childishness.  She  sighed. 

"Useless  is  it  to  enlighten  her  or  to  chide  thee, 
for  Miriam  is  just  Miriam,  and  neither  thou  nor  I 
would  have  her  different,"  and  so  saying,  Milcah 
went  her  way. 


CHAPTER  XX 
DEVOTION 

THE  gatekeeper  at  the  House  of  Naaman  was 
extremely  wise.  Old  and  faithful  and  trusted,  he 
was  an  autocrat  whose  word  few  had  the  temerity 
to  question.  For  years  he  had  admitted  and  dis- 
missed through  that  gate  high  and  low,  rich  and 
poor,  distinguished  and  obscure,  speaking  to  each 
in  his  own  tongue  and  with  the  manner  his  rank  and 
errand  demanded.  For  this  reason  he  felt  entirely 
competent  to  judge  for  himself  of  the  worth  of  any 
applicant  for  admission,  without  referring  the  mat- 
ter to  higher  authority.  When,  therefore,  two 
young  men  of  poverty-stricken  appearance  and 
speaking  the  language  of  Israel  came,  demanding 
to  see  the  master  of  the  house,  it  required  but  a 
moment  to  decide  that  their  request  should,  by  all 
means,  be  refused. 

They  were  undoubtedly  grieved  and  disappointed. 
The  next  day  they  came  again,  also  the  next  and 
still  the  fourth,  but  neither  arguments  nor  persuasion 
availed  with  the  gatekeeper.  Then  they  changed 
their  tactics.  They  pursued  a  policy  of  watchful 
waiting,  coming  every  day  and  crouching  on  the 
roadway  outside  the  forbidden  walls  from  the 

218 


DEVOTION  219 

earliest  beam  of  sunrise  until  its  last  faint  glow  in 
the  evening.  Against  such  warfare  as  this  the  auto- 
crat of  the  gate  was  incensed,  but  not  despondent. 
Others  had  made  like  attempts  at  various  times,  but 
had  never  been  victorious. 

To  the  sorely  tried  youths,  their  enemy's  resources 
seemed  unlimited.  By  turns  he  tried  threats,  blows, 
indifference,  sarcasm,  and  ridicule,  enlisting  the  sym- 
pathy and  ready  help  of  the  assorted  variety  of 
hangers-on  who  might  always  be  counted  upon  to 
linger  in  the  vicinity  of  a  rich  man's  dwelling.  To 
the  gatekeeper's  surprise  and  disgust,  it  was  all  use- 
less. Smarting  under  defeat  and  in  great  irritation 
the  old  man  carried  his  grievance  to  Isaac. 

"Right  hast  thou  been  to  tell  me,"  the  young 
man  assured  him.  "Either  they  be  thieves  watching 
their  opportunity,  in  which  case  the  soldiers  should 
pay  heed  to  them,  or  else  they  bear  a  message  suf- 
ficiently important  to  be  heard.  I  will  see  them  at 
once." 

Meanwhile  the  two  on  the  roadway  without  held 
converse  in  low  tones.  "Not  in  vain  have  we  daily 
watched  these  comings  and  goings,"  said  one,  "for 
much  have  we  learned  of  the  ways  of  the  household 
and  the  manner  of  behavior  therein." 

"Yea,  and  what  meaneth  more  to  us,"  responded 
his  companion,  "much  have  we  learned  as  to  whom 
it  is  that  cometh  and  goeth :  soldiers  and  servants, 
merchants  and  mendicants  and  messengers  of 


220  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

various  sorts  as  well  as  visitors  of  rank  and  dis- 
tinction. Of  importance  must  this  man  Naaman 
be  and  of  considerable  possessions.  Thinkest  thou 
he  will  demand  more  than  we  can  pay?" 

"Thou  knowest  the  alternative,"  was  the  grim 
answer. 

"Then,"  went  on  the  speaker,  "also  have  we  seen 
the  master  himself,  I  take  it,  but  never  close  enough 
to  have  speech  with  him.  Likewise  hath  the  mis- 
tress passed  and  a  maiden  who  always  goeth  forth 
with  her,  a  maiden  very  gorgeously  appareled  and  of 
great  beauty  whom  we  supposed  to  be  the  daughter 
of  the  house  save  that  her  looks  betray  a  different 
lineage.  All  these  and  more,  yet  never  the  young 
soldier,  Isaac  by  name,  who  carried  her  away." 

"And  if  it  were  possible,"  was  the  quick  retort, 
"I  would  be  content  not  to  see  him." 

"More  concerned  am  I,"  pursued  the  other,  "that 
he  should  not  see  me.  He  may  remember  that  out 
of  his  hand  did  I  escape  and  seek  to  take  me  again. 
Yet  to  redeem  my  promise  and  thy  vow  are  we  come, 
and  I  shall  not  begrudge  the  price." 

At  that  moment  an  air  of  expectancy  ran  through 
the  group  outside  the  portal,  a  thrill  which  com- 
municated itself  even  to  the  two  who  were  convers- 
ing and  who,  by  reason  of  the  hostility  offered  them, 
had  been  obliged  to  surrender  the  strategic  position 
opposite  the  entrance  and  take  refuge  under  the  wall 
at  a  little  distance.  The  gatekeeper  appeared,  beck- 


DEVOTION  221 

oning  violently.  The  idle  pauper  group,  each  indi- 
vidual of  which  hoped  this  honor  was  for  him, 
crowded  about  the  man,  only  to  be  repulsed  with 
grumbling  curses.  The  two  young  men,  having 
learned  to  expect  nothing  but  unkindness,  merely 
gazed  and  wondered.  At  last  they  became  aware 
that  it  was  they  who  were  being  called. 

"Come,  thou  gaunt  tricksters.  Thou  of  the 
brawny  arm,"  to  the  younger,  "and  thou  of  the 
burning  eyes,"  to  the  elder.  "Thou  Israelitish  im- 
postors! Come  and  tell  thy  errand  to  the  favorite 
servant  of  my  lord  Naaman.  Come  quickly  that 
thou  mayest  be  gone  before  he  loseth  patience." 

The  two  looked  at  each  other  questioningly,  dis- 
regarding the  curious  and  envious  eyes  upon  then. 

"What  new  insult  thinkest  thou — ?" 

Out  of  the  gate  limped  a  soldier  very  little  older 
than  themselves  and  halted  before  them  with  a 
grave  salute. 

"Peace  be  unto  thee  if  thy  errand  be  peace. 
Naaman,  my  master,  goeth  forth  on  a  matter  for 
the  king.  Quickly,  therefore,  thy  names  and  what 
it  is  that  bringeth  thee  hither." 

The  young  men  bowed  low  before  him  and  the 
elder  made  the  necessary  explanations. 

"A  long  and  toilsome  journey  hath  thy  servants 
taken  and  one  beset  with  danger,  and  five  lean  and 
hungry  years  have  they  spent  in  preparing  that  they 
might  speak  to  the  master  of  this  house  concerning 


222  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

a  matter  on  which  only  he  can  speak  with  both  knowl- 
edge and  authority.  So  I  pray  thee,  if  thy  servants 
have  found  favor  in  thine  eyes,  grant  that  their  re- 
quest be  carried  to  him." 

"It  shall  be  done,"  the  soldier  answered,  tersely, 
after  a  momentary  hesitancy,  and  conducted  them 
forthwith  past  the  sacred  gate  and  the  once  frown- 
ing gatekeeper  (now  all  smiles)  to  the  outer  court- 
yard. 

Scarcely  had  he  left  them  and  scarcely  had  they 
time  to  observe  the  magnificence  of  the  surround- 
ings, when  he  returned,  a  few  steps  behind  his  mas- 
ter. The  latter  suffered  the  usual  elaborate  saluta- 
tions of  the  East  with  visible  irritation. 

"The  king's  business,  on  which  I  go,  requireth 
haste,"  he  told  them,  thoughtlessly  speaking  in 
Syrian.  "State  thy  errand  in  as  few  words  as  pos- 
sible that  I  may  tarry  but  briefly." 

The  elder  of  the  two,  continuing  to  act  as  spokes- 
man, bowed  low  before  the  soldier,  who  was  stand- 
ing apart:  "Thy  speech  is  that  of  Israel  and  thy 
master  is  not  able  to  understand  thy  servants.  I 
pray  thee  stand  near  that  thou  mayest  tell  thy  lord 
what  thy  servants  say  and  tell  them  what  he  saith." 

A  smile  played  round  the  soldier's  mouth.  "Nay, 
for  my  mother,  who  was  of  the  Land  of  Israel, 
taught  its  tongue  to  my  master,  whom  she  nursed. 
Say  on  and  he  will  understand.  Long  hath  Isaac's 
people  served  the  House  of  Naaman." 


DEVOTION  223 

"Isaac?"  The  question — or  exclamation — was 
like  the  swift  thrust  of  a  sword  dividing  friend  from 
friend.  The  speaker  drew  back  with  hostility  in 
eye  and  voice.  "Thou  art  Isaac?" 

The  soldier  wonderingly  assented. 

"Then  thou  art  he  who  hath  brought  us  hither. 
Five  years  and  more,"  sternly,  "hast  the  captivity 
of  a  maid  been  on  thy  conscience,  if  thou  hast  a 
conscience;  a  maid  whom  thy  soldiers  stole  from 
Hannathon  in  the  Land  of  Israel." 

Surprise,  resentment,  and  then  infinite  sadness 
overspread  Isaac's  countenance.  "Nay,"  he  said 
gently,  "not  five,  but  twenty-five,  fifty,  an  hundred, 
hath  been  the  years  of  my  remorse." 

The  travelers  exchanged  glances. 

"Then  do  we  not  need  to  be  told  how  it  hath  fared- 
with  the  maiden,"  said  the  spokesman,  and  turned 
his  back  upon  the  soldier,  addressing  Naaman  in  the 
tongue  of  Israel. 

"Thy  servants  be  Eli  and  Nathan,  from  the  city 
of  Hannathon  in  the  Land  of  Israel,  and  we  have 
come  to  redeem  out  of  thy  hand  this  captive  maid, 
Miriam  by  name." 

Naaman  frowned,  and  he  spoke  slowly.  "Thy 
words  do  I  comprehend  but  not  thy  meaning.  'Re- 
deem,' thou  sayest." 

Out  of  his  bosom  Eli  drew  a  piece  of  sheepskin, 
which  he  carefully  unwrapped,  displaying  two  huge 
bracelets  and  a  ring. 


224  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

"When  these  are  weighed,  my  lord,  thou  wilt  find 
that  they  are  of  considerable  value." 

Naaman  exchanged  a  look  with  Isaac  and  as- 
sumed an  air  of  sternness.  "And  when  the  truth 
is  known  thou  wilt  be  found  to  have  stolen  them." 

On  the  faces  of  the  two  young  men  was  blank 
despair.  "Say  not  so,  my  lord.  It  is  the  product  of 
five  years  and  more  of  toil  for  us  in  the  fields  and 
vineyards  of  Abner  of  Hannathon.  Robbed  of  his 
flocks  and  herds  and  his  stores  of  oil  and  wine  by 
the  same  hand  which  made  Miriam's  parents  deso- 
late"— he  paused  and  cast  a  contemptuous  glance  at 
Isaac,  who  winced  as  if  he  had  received  a  blow — 
"naught  had  he  left  but  his  land,  so  he  agreed  with 
us  for  wages,  and  the  God  of  our  fathers,  who  heard 
the  sighs  of  the  maid  in  captivity,  also  prospered 
Abner  and  us." 

Naaman  surveyed  the  jewelry  appraisingly.  "Five 
years'  wages  for  two  would  scarcely  equal  their 
value.  Thou  hast  obtained  them  by  fraud.  Per- 
adventure  even  now  he  for  whom  thou  wert  hire- 
lings mourneth  his  loss." 

Genuinely  distressed,  tears  came  to  the  eyes  of 
Eli.  "Nay,"  he  said,  eagerly,  "my  lord  misjudgeth 
his  servants.  Privation  hath  been  sister  unto  Toil 
and  both  have  been  sweet  unto  us  for  the  hope 
wherewith  we  were  comforted.  My  lord  can  see 
that  these  be  the  hands  of  workers — "  he  stretched 
open  palms  toward  Naaman  and  commanded  Na- 


DEVOTION  225 

than  to  do  likewise.     "These  are  not  the  hands  of 
those  who  live  delicately  on  the  earnings  of  others." 

Naaman  surveyed  their  hardened  and  calloused 
hands,  to  which  his  attention  had  been  directed, 
but  he  saw  yet  more:  their  emaciated  appearance, 
their  coarse  clothing,  above  all,  their  earnestness,  but 
he  seemed  to  find  no  words. 

Slowly  Eli  drew  from  his  bosom  another  and  yet 
smaller  piece  of  sheepskin  and  unwrapping  it,  passed 
it  without  speaking  to  Naaman.  The  latter  looked 
long  and  with  surprise,  examining  it  diligently  and 
commenting  briefly. 

"It  is  a  pearl  of  great  price.  It  hath  never  be- 
longed to  thee." 

"Never,"  assented  the  spokesman.  "It  is  a  gift 
from  Judith,  kinswoman  to  Miriam  and  wife  of 
Abner,  who  considereth  herself  to  blame  for 
Miriam's  capture.  Loath  was  I  to  take  it,  but  she 
besought  me  with  tears  and  we  reflected  that  what 
might  mean  much  to  the  maid  was  but  a  little  thing 
to  Abner,  so  we  hearkened  to  his  wife." 

The  conversation  was  interrupted  momentarily 
when  Lemuel,  bowing  low  and  with  many  apologies, 
crossed  the  courtyard  hurriedly  and  whispered  a 
message  in  Naaman's  ear.  With  a  hasty  glance  at 
the  sun  the  great  captain  turned  to  Eli. 

"Put  up  thy  jewels  into  thy  bosom.  Very  dear  unto 
her  mistress  is  the  maid,  and  the  sum  thou  canst 
offer  tempts  me  not.  Nay,  for  I  would  tell  thee — " 


226  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

With  one  dismayed  look  at  his  brother  Eli  spoke 
again  with  calm  finality :  "Then  one  thing  more  do 
we  bring  my  lord,  all  that  we  have  to  give.  Let,  I 
pray  thee,  thy  servants  remain  as  thy  bondmen  and 
let  the  maid  return  to  Israel  and  to  the  mother  who 
yearneth  for  her." 

The  younger  brother  now  advanced,  prostrating 
himself  and  echoing  Eli's  request:  "Let  Nathan 
and  Eli  serve  thee  as  thou  seest  fit,  but  let  not  the 
maid  remain  in  captivity." 

Frank  admiration  beamed  from  Naaman's  coun- 
tenance. "Nay,  not  as  bondmen  shalt  thou  remain 
in  this  house,  but  as  guests.  Meat  and  drink  shall  be 
set  before  thee  and  changes  of  raiment  shall  be 
brought.  Thou  shalt  see  the  maid  and  have  audience 
with  her  mistress.  Much  of  gratitude  and  affection 
do  we  owe  Miriam,  and  if  it  please  my  wife  to  let 
her  go  into  Israel,  naught  of  what  thou  hast  offered 
would  we  take,  but  a  gift  should  she  carry  in  her 
hand.  Already  hath  request  for  the  maiden's  free- 
dom been  made  by  my  well-beloved  servant,  Isaac, 
and—" 

Toward  the  gate  they  had  entered  flitted  a  smiling 
maiden,  attended  by  an  older  woman  and  a  maid 
servant.  She  stopped  to  pick  a  flower  from  the 
courtyard  garden.  Two  women  passed  and  she 
spoke  to  each,  not  with  familiar  chat,  but  with  pleas- 
ant authority,  both  hurrying  off  to  do  her  bidding. 
As  the  three  entered  a  chariot  which  was  in  waiting 


DEVOTION  227 

and  to  which  she  was  assisted  with  every  mark  of 
respect,  she  turned  her  head  and  the  visitors  saw 
that  it  was  the  gorgeously  appareled  maiden  they 
had  once  supposed  to  be  the  daughter  of  the  house. 

"Behold,"  said  Naaman,  "the  maid  whom  thou 
seekest.  She  goeth — " 

A  rush  of  faintness  caused  Eli  to  lean  heavily 
upon  his  brother.  It  was  not  this  Miriam  for  whose 
sake  they  had  toiled  and  suffered,  but  a  Miriam  poor 
and  abused  and  possibly  degraded.  Upon  the  stone 
floor  of  the  courtyard  Eli  fell.  It  was  the  tragedy 
of  an  unnecessary  sacrifice. 


CHAPTER  XXI 
TIDINGS 

SOMEWHERE  out  on  the  Syrian  hills  a  mother 
caressed  her  babe.  "Awakest  thou,  little  one? 
Knowest  thou  that  when  thine  eyes  open  it  is  as  if 
sunrise  had  come  and  when  thou  closest  them  again 
it  is  as  sunset?" 

The  exultation  went  out  of  her  face,  but  the  ten- 
derness remained  in  her  voice.  "To  think,  joy  of 
my  life,  that  thou  shalt  never  know  thine  own  peo- 
ple! Never  shall  the  eyes  of  thy  father's  father  or 
thy  mother's  mother  behold  thy  sweetness  and  de- 
light in  thee." 

The  next  words  came  with  a  low  intensity  like 
the  fierce  growl  of  some  mother-beast  called  upon 
to  defend  her  young:  "Always  shalt  thou  be  a 
stranger  in  a  strange  land  with  not  even  memories, 
such  as  thy  father  and  I  enjoy,  to  console  thee. 
Scorn  and  misunderstanding  and  bitterness  of  spirit 
shall  be  thy  portion  forever.  O  little  son,  dearly  as 
I  love  thee,  how  can  I  bear  to  see  thee  grow  into  man- 
hood thus?"  Her  bosom  heaved  and  her  eyes  suf- 
fused with  tears. 

She  was  startled  by  a  long,  low  peal  of  thunder 
and  a  great  gust  of  wind  which  blew  violently  into 

228 


TIDINGS  229 

the  tent  through  the  raised  flap.  With  the  babe  in 
her  arms  she  went  quickly  to  this  opening,  which 
served  as  both  door  and  window,  and  peered  out 
anxiously.  A  few  large  drops  of  rain  were  already 
falling,  giving  promise  of  the  deluge  which  came 
suddenly,  even  as  she  looked.  For  some  reason  the 
babe  wrinkled  up  its  tiny  face  and  began  to  wail. 
The  woman,  with  a  quick  movement,  let  fall  the  cur- 
tain flap  and  retreated  from  the  entrance,  soothing 
the  child  meanwhile. 

"Nay,  little  son,  it  is  not  Rimmon,  whom  these 
Syrians  sometimes  worship  as  the  sun-god  and  some- 
times as  the  storm-god.  He  is  not,  as  they  believe, 
punishing  his  people  for  their  sins,  lashing  them 
with  the  fury  of  the  storm.  It  is  Jehovah,  sending 
rain  that  grass  may  grow  upon  the  hills  to  provide 
food  for  his  creatures.  Surely,  none  knowest  better 
than  thy  mother  that  he  is  of  tender  mercy.  Nay," 
as  the  cries  grew  louder,  "weep  not  even  for  thy 
father.  Long  before  thou  and  I  thought  of  rain  he 
had  sensed  the  storm  and  securely  hidden  his  sheep 
in  some  cave  of  the  mountains  where  the  fore- 
thought of  the  shepherds  hath  already  stored  food 
for  such  emergencies.  Skillful  and  tender  and 
watchful  is  thy  father.  The  worst  for  us  is  that  we 
shall  have  to  spend  the  night  alone,  so  far  from  the 
sheepfold  and  the  tents  of  other  shepherds.  Shall 
we  sit  here,  just  within  the  door,  where  we  can  see 
what  passeth  without,  heart's  delight?" 


23o  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

Suiting  the  action  to  the  word  she  lifted  the  tent- 
flap  a  little  and  peered  out,  uttering  an  exclamation. 
"It  is  hard  to  see  through  the  blinding  rain  and  the 
wind,  sweet  one,  but  someone  cometh." 

Again  she  looked.  "It  is  not  sheep,  and  so  I  know 
it  is  not  thy  father.  Rather  it  seemeth  like  a  chariot. 
Yea,  it  is  a  chariot  with  horsemen  before  and  be- 
hind." 

She  clasped  the  babe  to  her  in  an  agony  of  appre- 
hension. "Only  king's  messengers  ride  with  chariot 
and  horsemen.  They  come  in  haste,  as  if  on  urgent 
business.  They  will  stop  when  they  see  the  tent  and 
seek  shelter  from  the  storm.  And  thou  and  I  alone !" 

Scarcely  had  she  ceased  speaking  when  she  de- 
tected that  the  little  company  was,  as  she  feared, 
preparing  to  halt.  The  foremost  horseman  dis- 
mounted and,  approaching  the  tent,  entered  with  an 
air  of  insolent  authority.  The  woman,  face  to  face 
with  her  intruder-guest,  drew  back  in  fear.  He 
smiled  triumphantly. 

"Twice,"  he  said,  "nay,  thrice  hast  thou  escaped 
me.  Once  in  the  gorge  in  Israel  when  thou  fedest 
wild  pigeons  and  knew  not  thou  wert  observed; 
once  as  we  journeyed  toward  Damascus,  and  again 
in  Damascus  itself.  Thrice  had  I  thee  in  my  power. 
Wert  thou  not  my  captive?  Thrice  hast  thou  es- 
caped through  the  help  of  thy  friend — peradventure 
more  than  friend — Isaac." 

The  woman  lifted  her  head  proudly,  resenting  the 


TIDINGS  231 

sneer,  a  torrent  of  indignant  denials  on  the  end  of 
her  tongue,  but  his  manner  immediately  became  con- 
ciliatory: "Yet  though  the  gods,  who  have  ever 
been  kind  to  me,  have  brought  thee  into  my  hand 
once  more,  and  there  be  no  Isaac  near  to  secure  thy 
release,  thou  hast  no  cause  for  alarm.  Only  speak 
thou  favorably  of  me  to  the  maiden  I  have  brought 
hither  and  all  shall  be  well  with  thee  and  with  thy 
husband  and  babe.  Refuse,  and — " 

His  words  were  cut  short  by  the  arrival  of  the 
rest  of  the  party,  who  crowded  into  the  tent  uncere- 
moniously, but  though  the  threat  was  unspoken,  the 
woman  shuddered.  It  was  as  if  personified  Evil 
had  intruded  into  the  sacredness  of  Home.  Retreat- 
ing as  far  as  possible  into  the  dim  shadows  of  the 
tent's  interior,  she  watched  apathetically  the  en- 
trance of  two  women,  heavily  veiled.  That  they 
were  persons  of  importance  was  evidenced  by  the 
deference  with  which  they  were  treated  by  the 
soldier-escort,  chief  of  whom  was  Lemuel. 

The  older  woman  was  speaking  querulously: 
"Never  should  we  have  come  to  seek  those  who  are 
but  wayfarers.  Saidst  I  not  to  thee  that  only  storms 
and  uncertainty  would  be  our  portion?" 

Her  companion,  evidently  much  younger,  an- 
swered, soothingly:  "Yea,  and  many  more  dis- 
couragements didst  thou  prophesy,  but  said  we  not 
that  none  of  them  should  delay  the  message  of  joy 
we  carry,  for  is  not  Jehovah  able  to  deliver  us  out 


232  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

of  them  all  ?  See  how  he  hath  now  provided  shelter 
for  us." 

Lemuel,  dropping  the  tent-flap,  which  he  had  held 
as  the  two  entered,  bowed  deferentially  to  the  last 
speaker:  "Rightly  hast  thou  spoken,  Miriam. 
Blessed  be  the  name  of  Jehovah,  as  I  learned  in  our 
recent  visit  to  Israel." 

It  was  noticeable  that  the  girl  did  not  return  the 
smile  but  drew  away  somewhat  coldly.  The  woman 
within  the  shadows  suddenly  recovered  her  self- 
possession,  noting  that  this  was  the  tongue  of  Israel 
and  not  the  despised  Syrian.  Hastening  forward 
she  spoke  those  courteous  words  of  greeting  which 
no  Oriental  householder  would,  under  any  circum- 
stances, omit,  placing  her  services  and  her  posses- 
sions entirely  at  the  disposal  of  the  strangers  and 
drawing  the  two  females  of  the  party  into  the 
woman's  portion  of  the  tent  while  the  men  made 
themselves  quite  at  home  in  the  other  and  larger 
section. 

The  younger  traveler  received  these  kindly  min- 
istrations of  her  hostess  with  a  wondering  hesitancy. 
"Thou  art  not — thou  canst  not  be — "  she  began, 
then,  throwing  aside  the  drenched  veil  worn  on  the 
journey,  she  peered  intently  into  the  face  which 
could  not  be  seen  plainly  in  the  semi-darkness. 

"Thy  voice,"  she  continued,  "and  what  I  can  see 
of  thy  countenance — "  and  then  a  glad  cry  rang  out : 
"Thou  art  she  whom  Milcah  and  I  have  sought,  lo, 


TIDINGS  233 

these  many  days.  Thou  art  Rachel,  wife  of  my 
brother  Benjamin.  Blessed  be  the  name  of  Jehovah, 
who  hath  brought  us  to  thee  safely!" 

"Yea,  blessed  be  the  name  of  Jehovah!"  piously 
echoed  the  men  of  the  party,  but  two  of  them  ex- 
changed glances  partly  amused  and  partly  sinister 
yet  altogether  significant. 

It  was  an  evening  of  joy.  After  the  tiny  lamps 
had  been  lighted  and  the  wayfarers  had  eaten,  Ra- 
chel listened  to  Miriam's  recital  in  amazed  in- 
credulity. 

"That  we  should  return  to  Israel  when  we  had 
despaired  of  seeing  our  kindred  again!  That  our 
son  should  be  reared  in  the  land  of  Jehovah  instead 
of  in  this  country  of  many  gods!  And  that  we 
should  return  as  thou  sayest,  not  as  those  who  flee 
from  an  enemy  but  with  a  gift  in  our  hand,  the 
sheep  that  Benjamin  loveth,  nay,  I  have  not  heard 
aright.  Truly  thy  master  is  good  unto  thee  and  unto 
us.  And  thou  wilt  come  also?" 

For  a  moment  Miriam  struggled  with  emotion. 
"Nay,"  she  declared  with  sad  finality,  "thou  must 
know  that  since  my  master's  healing  at  the  hands  of 
the  Man  of  God,  Jehovah  only  doth  our  household 
worship  and  there  be  none  to  teach  them  his  ways 
when  I  am  gone.  Besides,  is  it  not  Benjamin  and 
the  flock  which  will  be  of  most  help  to  our  parents? 
What  am  I  that  I  should  ask  more  when  I  have  al- 
ready been  granted  much  ?" 


234  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

Her  lip  quivered  and  very  unexpectedly  she  found 
herself  weeping  in  Rachel's  arms.  The  cords  of 
captivity,  however  entwined  with  love,  have  ever 
been  found  to  cut  the  very  heart-strings!  The 
storm  without  almost  drowned  conversation  within 
and  very  early,  sleeping  mats  were  unrolled  in  both 
sections  of  the  tent,  the  lights  were  extinguished  and 
silence  reigned. 

All  day  long  the  same  rain  had  dripped  and  driz- 
zled upon  the  streets  of  Damascus,  driving  its  in- 
habitants to  shelter.  All  day  long  the  several  court- 
yards of  Naaman's  house  had  been  deserted  and  the 
two  young  men  from  Israel,  guests  for  several  days 
under  its  hospitable  roof,  waited  in  isolation  and 
impatience  for  the  interview  they  had  been  promised 
with  Miriam  and  her  mistress.  Instead,  a  servant 
had  come  with  a  courteous  message  to  the  effect  that 
the  maiden  was  on  a  short  journey  and  Adah  was 
indisposed,  but  it  was  hoped  it  would  please  them  to 
abide  there  for  a  time,  and  so  they  had  remained. 

Some  time  during  the  night  the  wind  changed  and 
drove  a  fine  spray  through  the  lattice,  sprinkling  the 
sleepers  below  and  slapping  them  in  the  face  with 
its  raw  breath.  Nathan  sprang  to  his  feet  with  an 
exclamation  of  disgust,  dragged  his  quilt-mattress 
to  another  and  dryer  part  of  the  room  and  was  soon 
dreaming  again  that  he  was  a  soldier  with  a  com- 
mander who  looked  extremely  like  Isaac. 


TIDINGS  235 

Eli  too  arose,  but  with  greater  deliberation.  Peer- 
ing through  the  lattice  into  the  inky  blackness  with- 
out, he  sighed.  "Rain  coming  with  a  quiet  steadiness 
that  seemeth  to  deluge  my  heart  with  its  cold  tor- 
rent. Persistence  hath  the  power  of  accomplish- 
ment. Already  are  the  roads  washed  out  and  a  long 
winter  must  we  remain  in  Syria  before  travel  to 
Israel  will  be  safe  or  comfortable.  And  the  mother, 
old  before  her  time,  bent  under  the  weight  of  mis- 
fortune like  an  olive  tree  before  a  storm,  can  she 
endure?  So  different  hath  been  our  coming  from 
all  we  had  planned !  To  find  the  maid  well  treated, 
even  honored  and  beloved,  how  it  would  hearten  the 
mother  could  we  but  send  her  word!  And  yet — 
what  if  Miriam  should  not  wish  to  go?" 

Others  there  were  in  the  House  of  Naaman  who 
felt  the  wind's  rough  caress.  Isaac,  in  no  wise  dis- 
comfited by  the  spray,  as  became  a  soldier,  merely 
moved  away  from  the  lattice,  but  drowsiness  had 
fled.  A  thought  of  Miriam  came  to  him.  She 
would  be  greatly  disappointed  that  she  must  wait 
throughout  the  long,  wet  months  of  winter,  for  when 
she  should  learn  that  Eli  had  come,  she  would  de- 
sire to  start  for  Israel  at  once.  Now  the  rain  had 
made  it  impossible  and  his  heart  was  filled  with  a 
great  pity,  even  though  her  going  meant  more  to 
him  than  he  dared  to  dwell  upon.  Perhaps,  in  all 
that  great  abode,  Adah,  its  mistress,  alone  felt 
pleased  over  the  storm.  Staring  into  space  with 


236  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

wide-open  eyes  for  hours,  she  had  listened  to  the 
rain's  gentle  patter,  listened  with  a  kind  of  fierce  joy. 
"Until  spring  Miriam  cannot  go,"  she  whispered 
to  herself.  "Months  must  she  abide  here.  Blessed 
respite !  But  how  can  I  spare  her  at  all  ?  She  who 
hath  been  the  sunshine,  the  courage,  the  hope  in  our 
time  of  darkness  and  distress.  She  who  hath  taught 
me  to  be  happy  as  she  said  she  would.  Ah,  empty 
will  be  the  house  and  dreary  the  days  without  our 
little  maid!" 

For  two  days  the  storm  expended  its  fury.  The 
third  dawned  clear,  and  a  wind  which  threatened  to 
tear  down  the  tent  dried  the  soaked  earth.  The 
fourth  found  Benjamin,  with  his  sheep,  pushing  for- 
ward with  as  much  speed  as  the  safety  of  his  flock 
would  permit,  anxious  for  the  welfare  of  his  loved 
ones.  He  was  surprised  and  delighted  to  greet  his 
unexpected  guests,  and  with  a  joy  scarcely  less  re- 
strained than  Rachel's  listened  to  the  wondrous  tale 
his  sister  had  traveled  so  many  miles  to  bring  him. 

"But  thou  also  shalt  ask  to  go.  Behold,  is  not 
the  House  of  Naaman  indebted  to  thee?" 

Miriam  shook  her  head.  "There  is  no  debt,  but 
if  there  were,  would  it  not  be  more  than  repaid  when 
thou  and  thy  flock  are  restored  to  those  who  need 
both?  And  thou  wilt  tell  my  mother  that  I  have 
kept  the  Lord  alway  before  my  face,  even  as  she 
bade  me  promise." 


TIDINGS  237 

The  voice  faltered,  and  Benjamin  put  an  arm 
about  her.  "Be  of  good  courage,  little  maid.  Think- 
est  thou  Isaac  will  let  thee  weep  for  thy  kindred? 
Nay,  but  he  will  speak  to  his  master  and  he  to  thy 
mistress,  and  when  we  start  for  Israel  in  the  spring 
thou  shalt  go  also.  Rest  thou  in  hope." 

Miriam  tried  to  smile  and,  saddened  that  the 
storm  should  have  rendered  her  errand  futile,  but 
rejoicing  in  the  confidence  it  had  inspired,  she  lin- 
gered yet  another  day  and  took  her  departure.  Al- 
most at  the  last  moment  Rachel  drew  her  aside  for 
a  whispered  word. 

"Put  no  confidence  in  this  Lemuel  who  hath 
charge  of  thy  party.  Not  now  can  I  explain,  but 
I  fear  for  thee  if  thou  dost  trust  him." 

Miriam  nodded.  "Isaac  told  me  the  same  and 
wished  greatly  that  I  wait  until  he  should  be  well 
enough  to  bring  me  himself  or  spare  his  servant,  but 
the  tidings  seemed  too  joyful  to  delay." 

Milcah,  Miriam's  perpetual  shadow,  put  in  a 
word :  "And  so  my  brother  besought  his  master  that 
I  be  allowed  to  come  with  the  maiden,  and  our  mis- 
tress, who  can  deny  her  nothing,  hastened  the  plans 
lest  disappointment  befall  her." 

At  a  little  distance  Lemuel  was  talking  confi- 
dentially with  a  fellow  soldier.  "Pleased  am  I  that 
our  errand  hath  ended  well,"  he  was  saying. 

"Yea,"  rejoined  the  other  with  a  sneering  smile, 
"pleased  if  it  please  the  maid  and,  better  still,  pleased 


238  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

if  it  please  her  master  and  mistress,  for  very  dear 
unto  them  is  Miriam  since  Naaman's  healing.  So 
shall  thine  own  schemes  be  furthered." 

Lemuel  frowned.    "My  creditors  agreed  to  wait." 

"And  the  gods,  whom  thou  art  always  boasting 
have  thee  in  their  favor,  have  given  thee  this  op- 
portunity. How  much  thinkest  thou  is  the  treasure 
which  hath  been  given  to  the  maid?" 

But  it  was  time  for  the  little  company  to  start 
back  to  Damascus  and  with  a  sigh  of  relief  Lemuel 
took  his  place  at  its  head.  He  gritted  his  teeth  as, 
obeying  his  order,  the  man  to  whom  he  had  been 
speaking  took  a  place  in  the  rear. 

"Better  were  this  Jehovah-worshiping  maid  fhan 
thy  insolence,"  he  said  under  his  breath.  "May  the 
gods  help  me  to  find  favor  in  the  eyes  of  the  maid 
and  most  of  all  in  the  eyes  of  her  mistress,  who  hold- 
eth  the  maid's  future  and  the  maid's  fortune  in  her 
hands!" 


CHAPTER  XXII 
MEETINGS 

IN  a  guest  chamber  of  the  House  of  Naaman  Na- 
than hovered  anxiously  around  his  brother.  They 
had  heard  the  happy  announcement  of  Miriam's 
return,  had  seen  the  great  house  transformed  into 
a  scene  of  busy  festivity  as  if  some  honored  guest 
were  about  to  arrive,  had  even  stood  at  a  distance 
and  observed  the  bit  of  rivalry  between  the  soldier 
who  had  brought  her  hither  and  Isaac,  who  assisted 
her  to  alight  from  the  chariot  into  the  arms  of  her 
waiting  mistress,  had  noted  the  happiness  in  her 
countenance  and  had  turned  away,  sick  at  heart. 
Later  the  servant  who  had  been  in  almost  constant 
attendance  upon  them  had  come  to  name  the  hour 
when  they  would  be  conducted  to  Adah's  apart- 
ments, but  for  the  present  they  were  quite  alone. 

Eli  spoke  dully,  his  whole  attitude  one  of  extreme 
dejection:  "Strong  were  we  to  labor  when  we 
thought  of  the  maid  despised  and  ill-treated.  Sacri- 
fice was  as  sweet  to  us  as  the  cool  air  of  morn.  Joy- 
ful were  we  as  they  who  conquer  in  battle  when  we 
had  this — and  this — and  this — "  touching  the 
separate  pieces  of  jewelry  which  lay  in  a  glittering 
heap  beside  him.  "Enough  and  more  did  we  deem 

239 


24o  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

them  for  her  ransom,  yet  how  little  it  profiteth !  All 
of  her  impressionable  years  have  been  spent  in  the 
midst  of  such  plenty,  such  riches  as  we  in  Israel 
knew  not  existed  save  in  kings'  houses.  Nor  hath 
she  been  required  to  labor.  Peradventure  she  scorn- 
eth  toil.  Her  master  refuseth  to  let  her  go,  and 
she  would  not  wish  to  be  redeemed  even  if  we  had 
sufficient  gold  to  purchase  her  freedom." 

He  regarded  the  jewelry  at  his  side  with  disdain. 
"Take  it,  Nathan.  Let  me  never  see  it  more  nor 
speak  thou  of  it  to  me.  Wasted  is  our  work,  ill- 
spent  are  our  years,  blasted  are  our  hopes.  It  is  as 
a  pomegranate  tree  which  a  man  planteth  in  his  vine- 
yard and  careth  for,  and  lo,  when  it  might  have 
borne,  the  frost  killeth  it." 

He  relapsed  into  bitter  musings  while  his  brother 
took  the  gold  as  he  was  bidden  and,  wrapping  it 
carefully  in  its  sheepskin  coverings,  put  it  in  his 
bosom.  Eli  silently  passed  him  the  pearl,  but  neither 
of  them  looked  at  it,  nor  did  they  observe  a  figure 
•which  approached  stealthily,  peered  through  the  par- 
tially opened  door,  and  departed  a  little  distance, 
remaining  near  enough,  however,  to  note  the  com- 
ings and  goings  from  that  particular  portal. 

Eli  was  speaking  again  in  the  same  despondent 
tone:  "Peradventure  she  will  have  for  us  naught 
but  contempt,  and  brought  up  in  this  heathen  splen- 
dor she  may  not  even  care  to  remember  her  home  in 
Israel,  nor  the  mother  who  weepeth  for  her,  nor  the 


MEETINGS  241 

God  of  her  fathers.  Come,  let  us  return  before  her 
words  and  actions  reveal  to  us  this  shame.  In  an 
hour  we  are  to  see  her,  so  the  servant  hath  said.  Let 
us  hasten  and  depart  lest  a  greater  sorrow  be 
ours." 

Nathan  pressed  him  back  into  the  seat  from  which 
he  had  risen.  "Thou  art  beside  thyself  with  grief 
and  disappointment.  Nay,  but  we  will  see  the  maid. 
We  will  tell  her  wherefore  we  are  come.  If  she 
hath  forgotten  aught  she  should  remember,  we  will 
teach  her  gently  and  patiently  as  a  mother  teacheth 
her  babe,  and  we  will  plead  for  that  mother  whose 
heart  will  break  if  we  return  with  ill  news.  Nay, 
but  we  will  quit  ourselves  like  men,  and  if  there  be 
blame,  it  shall  be  upon  the  maid  and  not  upon  us. 
Do  thou  remain  here  while  I  step  into  the  courtyard 
and  see  if  the  servant  cometh  who  is  to  conduct  us 
to  the  apartments  of  her  mistress.  Wait,  I  say, 
until  my  return." 

And  Eli  waited.  As  Nathan  crossed  the  threshold 
no  servant  was  in  sight,  and,  attempting  to  shake 
off  the  gloom  which  weighed  upon  him  in  spite 
of  attempted  cheerfulness,  he  walked  slowly  down 
the  courtyard,  turned  into  an  adjoining  one  and 
crossed  to  yet  another  before  he  realized,  with  a 
start,  that  he  was  in  unfamiliar  surroundings.  Lost 
in  thought,  he  had  not  noticed  that  he  was  followed. 
Now,  halting  in  confusion  and  seeking  to  recall  how 
he  had  come,  he  was  confronted  by  a  figure  oddly 


242  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

familiar.  There  was  neither  formal  salutation  nor 
friendly  greeting,  but  only  a  look  of  insolent  amuse- 
ment 

"So  thou  hast  changed  thy  mind,"  said  the  new- 
comer. "Once  thou  didst  refuse  to  remain  in  the 
company  which  would  have  brought  thee  straight 
to  this  house.  Five  years  later  thou  hast  come  of 
thine  own  free  will.  Peradventure  reflection  hath 
brought  wisdom,  yet  thou  shouldst  have  known  it 
was  dangerous." 

Nathan  was  startled.     The  speaker  continued. 

"Isaac  knew  thee  not  yesterday,  but  thou  couldst 
not  so  deceive  me.  Thou  art  the  lad  who  once  es- 
caped out  of  his  hand." 

Nathan  considered  it  prudent  to  appear  fearless. 
"Thou  art  Lemuel,"  he  said,  slowly,  "the  soldier 
who  captured  Miriam  and  me  in  Israel." 

"Thou  hast  guessed  rightly,"  went  on  the  other. 
"I  am  Lemuel,  who  forgetteth  neither  friend  nor 
foe.  One  word  from  me  to  my  master,  Naaman, 
and  thou  wouldst  indeed  serve  as  bond-servant,  not 
willingly  but  by  right,  for  wert  thou  not  fairly  taken 
in  war?" 

Nathan  determined  upon  escape,  but  the  watch- 
ful Lemuel  laid  a  detaining  hand  upon  his  shoulder. 
"Yet  I  may  not  speak  that  word,  or,  speaking  it, 
may  soften  the  tone  with  a  gift.  Thou  canst  pro- 
cure thine  own  ransom  more  easily  than  the 
maiden's.  The  same  gold  intrusted  to  me  for  my 


MEETINGS  243 

master — "  he  paused  to  give  the  better  effect  to  his 
words. 

Nathan  was  distressed. 

"Or  the  pearl,"  went  on  Lemuel,  "and  it  may  re- 
quire all.  Thy  fate  is  in  thine  own  hands.  Come, 
what  sayest  thou?  Which  shall  it  be,  thy  freedom 
or  thy  gold  ?  Thou  hast  not  long  to  debate  the  mat- 
ter. Thinkest  thou  I  know  not  that  the  treasure  is 
even  now  in  thy  bosom?" 

Nathan  gave  the  speaker  a  quick  glance  of  anxiety. 
How  could  he  know  that? 

"Come,"  continued  his  tormentor,  "what  is  the 
word  that  I  shall  speak?" 

Before  the  now  thoroughly  frightened  lad  could 
frame  a  reply,  Isaac  stood  before  them.  Frowningly 
he  addressed  himself  to  Lemuel. 

"I  will  carry  the  word  to  our  master,  the  word 
that  a  guest  in  his  house  hath  been  intimidated  and 
an  attempt  made  to  rob  him  of  his  possessions.  I 
will  not  soften  it,  neither  will  he." 

Lemuel  held  up  a  deprecating  hand.  "Thou  art 
too  harsh.  Thou  dost  not  remember  that  the  lad 
was  a  prisoner,  taken  in  open  warfare.  Should  he 
not  purchase  his  ransom?" 

Isaac  replied  by  a  look,  one  long  look  of  scorn  and 
indignation,  and  Lemuel  departed,  failing  miserably 
to  maintain  his  old-time  swagger.  Isaac  watched 
him,  his  lip  curling.  At  last  he  turned  to  Nathan. 

"Hadst  thou  intrusted  thy  treasure  to  him,  never 


244  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

wouldst  them  have  seen  it  again,  nor  would  my  mas- 
ter have  known  of  the  matter.  Guard  it  and  thyself 
as  well." 

Nathan  stammered  his  thanks,  wondering  the 
while  if  he  had  not  been  delivered  from  one  peril 
but  to  fall  into  another.  He  braced  himself  for  the 
ordeal. 

"The  man  hath  spoken  the  truth,"  he  confessed, 
bravely.  "Five  years  hath  made  a  change  in  my 
appearance,  but  look  thou  steadily  upon  my  coun- 
tenance and  thou  wilt  see  that  I  am  the  lad  who 
escaped  out  of  thine  hand.  Behold,  it  is  revealed. 
What  owe  I  thee?" 

The  soldier  regarded  him  with  the  same  frank 
admiration  as  had  Naaman  on  the  day  previous. 
"Thy  courage  is  equal  to  thy  resourcefulness  and  in- 
dependence of  spirit.  What  a  soldier  thou  wouldst 
make!  Not  at  first  did  I  know  thee,  but  soon  did 
thy  brother's  words  bring  thee  to  remembrance. 
Naught  owest  thou,  for  didst  thou  not  guard  and 
guide  the  maiden,  Rachel,  who  was  very  dear  to  a 
friend  of  mine,  a  man  to  whom  I  owe  my  very  life? 
Nor  have  I  any  claim  upon  thee  after  this  lapse  of 
time  and  we  at  peace  with  Israel  and  grateful  be- 
cause of  the  healing  of  my  master  by  thy  great 
prophet.  Nay,  fear  not,  but  go  in  peace." 

Nathan  would  have  gone  instantly  and  with  joy 
had  he  known  the  way,  and  so  it  came  about  that 
once  more  was  he  indebted  to  the  soldier  against 


MEETINGS  245 

whom  he  had  cherished  resentment  for  five  long 
years.  In  the  guest-chamber  Eli  had  awaited  his 
brother's  return  in  profound  melancholy.  The 
servant  came  to  conduct  them  to  the  apartments  of 
Miriam's  mistress  just  as  Nathan  and  Isaac  reached 
the  threshold,  but  Eli  sat  still. 

"Why  go?"  he  asked,  mournfully,  in  reply  to 
Nathan's  sharp  remonstrance.  "If  we  find,  as  seem- 
eth  likely,  that  the  maid  hath  chosen  to  forget  all 
she  should  remember:  Israel  the  land  of  her  birth, 
her  mother  and  her  home,  and  more  important  than 
all  else,  Jehovah  her  God,  how  could  we  carry  the 
tidings  which  would  be  sharper  than  a  sword  to  the 
heart  of  her  mother?" 

Isaac  regarded  the  speaker  with  surprise.  "Hadst 
thou  dwelt  long  in  Damascus,"  he  said,  "thou 
wouldst  have  heard  that  so  far  from  forgetting  Is- 
rael and  Jehovah,  the  maid  hath  remembered  with 
profit  to  the  House  of  Naaman.  The  wonder  of  it 
is  on  every  tongue." 

He  recounted  his  master's  cure  at  the  hands  of 
the  prophet,  ascribing  the  suggestion  to  Miriam  and 
praising  her  persistency.  "In  gratitude  for  this  heal- 
ing," he  went  on,  "Naaman  and  his  whole  house 
have  since  worshiped  only  Jehovah,  the  God  of  Is- 
rael, at  which  the  maid  greatly  rejoiceth." 

Eli's  face  glowed.  "Sayest  thou  so?  Upon  com- 
ing to  Damascus  we  first  sought  Ezekiel  to  obtain 
news  of  Rachel  and  to  see  if  she  knew  of  Miriam. 


246  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

Finding  him  long  since  dead  and  Rachel  married 
and  somewhere  out  on  the  hills  with  Benjamin,  her 
husband,  who  is  a  shepherd,  we  then  sought  thee, 
fearing  to  mention  Miriam's  name  or  to  betray  our 
errand  lest  obstacles  be  put  in  our  way  or  our 
treasure  stolen.  From  Amos,  seller  of  perfumes, 
did  we  learn  that  one,  Isaac,  wast  in  the  service  of 
Naaman  at  this  house.  From  thee  we  hoped  to 
learn  of  the  maiden's  whereabouts.  Later  we  heard 
that  an  Israelitish  maid,  Miriam  by  name,  was  also 
here,  so  we  sought  to  speak  to  the  master." 

He  paused,  gazing  at  Isaac  with  a  strange  mix- 
ture of  diffidence  and  resolution.  "We  came,"  he 
went  on,  "thinking  of  thee  as  an  enemy  to  be  ap- 
proached with  cautious  dread.  We  find  thee  a  friend 
to  whom  we  are  much  indebted." 

Nathan  nodded,  telling  briefly  his  experience  just 
past  and  joining  his  thanks  to  Eli's,  but  Isaac  waved 
aside  the  praise  and,  dismissing  the  servant,  himself 
conducted  them  to  the  apartments  where  they  were 
expected.  Miriam  was  nowhere  in  sight.  Adah  lis- 
tened languidly  while  Eli  earnestly  pleaded  his  cause, 
Nathan,  as  usual,  in  admiring  silence.  Isaac  paced 
the  courtyard  without. 

"And  so  because  her  master,  thy  husband,  refuseth 
to  accept  a  ransom,"  Eli  supplicated,  "even  though 
we  have  offered  to  become  servants  in  her  stead,  I 
have  determined  to  ask  of  thee  a  gift — the  gift  of 
the  maid  to  her  mother,  who  yearneth  for  her." 


MEETINGS  247 

Restless  under  those  burning  eyes,  jealous  for  the 
reputation  of  her  own  household,  she  addressed  him 
haughtily:  "The  same  request  hath  already  been 
preferred  by  Isaac,  and  although  the  maid  is  dear 
unto  us,  yet  to-day  hath  she  been  told  that  she  is 
not  bound  to  the  House  of  Naaman  save  by  the 
cords  of  affection.  When  the  rainy  season  is  over, 
she  is  to  go  with  her  brother  and  his  family,  to- 
gether with  his  flocks  and  herds,  back  to  the  Land 
of  Israel,  in  the  care  of  a  captain  and  horsemen. 
Behold,  before  thou  earnest  thou  hadst  thy  desire." 

Cutting  short  Eli's  bewildered  expressions  of 
gratitude,  she  dispatched  a  servant  in  search  of 
Miriam.  To  the  waiting  ones,  it  seemed  hours  be- 
fore she  came,  although  in  reality  it  was  but  a  few 
minutes.  It  was  her  fifteenth  birthday  and  she  was 
glowing  with  happiness,  smiling  radiantly  upon  the 
little  world  inside  the  walls  of  Naaman's  house. 

Adah  claimed  her  attention :  "Another  gift,  lit- 
tle maid,  an  unexpected  one :  tidings  from  thy  home 
in  Israel  brought  by  these  two  young  men.  Dost 
thou  know  them  ?" 

Miriam  turned,  scanning  their  faces  eagerly.  Na- 
than smiled  and  Eli  began  to  speak,  but  she  inter- 
rupted with  a  joyous  cry:  "Eli!  Nathan!  How 
tall  thou  art  grown !  And  how  didst  thou  ever  find 
me  ?  But  how  glad  I  am,  how  very  glad !  Tell  me, 
my  mother  and  my  father — " 

It  was  the  same  Miriam  Eli  had  last  seen  in  Is- 


248  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

rael.  Out  in  the  courtyard  Isaac  heard  the  joyful 
greeting  and  through  the  partly  opened  door  his 
eyes  encountered  Adah's,  looking  past  the  young 
people.  She  beckoned  him  to  her  side  for  a  whis- 
pered word. 

"I  fear  the  little  maid  will  no  longer  be  our  little 
maid." 

The  words  were  spoken  in  so  low  a  tone  he 
scarcely  caught  them,  but  they  might  have  been 
shouted  and  Miriam  and  her  visitors  would  not  have 
heard.  Isaac  watched  for  a  moment  the  little  group 
so  absorbed  each  in  the  other  and  sighed. 

"Yea,"  he  admitted,  sadly,  "we  have  lost  our 
little  maid  and  thou  and  I  will  sorrow  most." 


CHAPTER  XXIII 
ISRAEL 

ONCE  more  it  was  spring.  Once  more  were  the 
rains  over  and  the  air  balmy  and  the  water  courses 
quiet  so  that  sheep  might  pass  them  and  not  be 
afraid.  Once  more  were  faint  paths  made  across  the 
sands  of  the  wilderness  and  the  stony  hillsides  by 
caravans  large  and  small,  abroad  on  errands  of 
business  or  pleasure,  and  once  more  did  the  House 
of  Naaman  pass  a  restless  night,  for  on  the  morrow 
Miriam  was  to  depart  for  her  beloved  Land  of  Is- 
rael. 

Roused  from  happy  dreams,  she  could  not  under- 
stand for  a  moment  the  medley  of  confused  but 
pleasurable  sensations  which  surged  over  her;  then 
she  remembered  clearly.  Eli  had  come  long  months 
ago  to  take  her  back  to  things  as  they  used  to  be, 
back  to  her  mother  and  father — nay,  with  a  rush  of 
tears,  not  her  father.  Never  again  would  she  see 
that  fond  expression  in  his  eyes,  never  again  hear  his 
kind  voice,  never  again  look  upon  his  dear  face. 
And  her  mother,  old  and  broken,  she  was  told.  She 
could  not  realize  it.  Yet  soon  would  she  clasp  that 
mother  in  her  arms ;  soon  see  her  and  know  for  her- 
self. To-morrow  Isaac's  band  would  give  the  cap- 
tives in  Syria  safe  conduct,  Rachel  and  the  babe 

249 


250  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

riding  in  the  chariot  beside  her,  and  Benjamin  lead- 
ing his  sheep  before  them.  And  all  through  this 
time  of  waiting  Eli  had  been  here:  Eli,  who  had 
suffered  with  and  for  her,  who  had  toiled  and  sacri- 
ficed and  then  found  it  had  been  in  vain.  Oh,  Eli 
was  so  wonderful ! 

In  another  part  of  the  House  of  Naaman  he  of 
whom  she  thought  was  also  awake,  a  little  smile  on 
his  lips,  a  little  thrill  in  his  heart.  To  have  found 
her  unchanged  and  unspoiled  in  the  midst  of  all  this 
heathen  luxury!  To  have  found  her  beautiful  and 
true  and  sweet !  To  have  thought  that  he  toiled  for 
the  sake  of  the  mothers,  not  knowing  it  was  for 
Miriam,  not  understanding  that  there  was  just  one 
maiden — only  one! 

But  nights  have  a  way  of  ending,  and  dawn  came 
as  radiant  as  Miriam's  countenance  when  the  house- 
hold thronged  around  the  altar  which  had  been 
erected  in  one  of  the  more  private  courtyards  imme- 
diately after  Naaman's  return  from  Israel.  In  ap- 
pearance it  was  merely  a  raised  mound  made  of  or- 
dinary Syrian  soil  upon  which  had  been  spread  the 
"two  mules'  burden  of  earth"  he  had  begged  from 
the  Man  of  God.  Thus  hallowed  by  the  sacred  earth 
from  the  locality  in  which  Jehovah  was  supposed 
to  especially  delight,  it  was  considered  a  fitting  place 
for  the  burnt-offering  which  Naaman  himself 
piously  sacrificed  each  morning. 

This  accomplished,   the  worshipers  kneeling  in 


ISRAEL  251 

petitions  more  or  less  heartfelt,  they  rose  and  the 
service  closed  with  a  psalm  of  David,  painstakingly 
taught  by  Miriam  to  the  household  singers.  To-day 
the  hymn  concerned  itself  with  the  wonders  of  na- 
ture, not  in  and  for  themselves  as  did  the  psalms  of 
the  sun-worshipers,  but  extolling  Jehovah  as  Lord 
over  nature. 

Miriam's  voice  led : 

"The  heavens  declare  the  glory  of  God, 
And  the  firmament  showeth  his  handiwork." 

The  chorus  responded : 

"Day  unto  day  uttereth  speech, 
And  night  unto  night  revealeth  knowledge; 
There  is  no  speech,  there  are  no  words, 
Neither  is  their  voice  heard. 
Yet  is  their  line  gone  out  through  all  the  earth, 
And  their  words  to  the  end  of  the  world." 

Miriam's  voice  again : 

"In  them  hath  Jehovah  set  a  tent  for  the  sun," 

And  the  chorus  once  more : 

"Which  is  as  a  bridegroom  coming  out  of  his  chamber, 
And  rejoiceth  as  a  strong  man  to  run  his  course. 
His  going  forth  is  from  the  end  of  the  heaven, 
And  his  circuit  unto  the  ends  of  it; 
And  there  is  nothing  hid  from  the  heat  thereof." 

At  the  close  of  the  service  Eli  had  speech  with 
Miriam  for  a  moment.     "They  go  now,"  she  told 


252  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

him,  "to  the  House  of  Rimmon,  where  the  old  King 
Ben-hadad  leaneth  for  support  upon  the  hand  of 
his  well-beloved  servant,  Naaman,  my  master. 
Isaac  attendeth  upon  him.  Thou  wilt  wish  to  go  to 
see  for  thyself  this  sun-worship  while  I  wait  upon 
my  mistress  ere  we  depart." 

"Always  thou  hast  refused  to  go,"  Isaac  reminded, 
seconding  the  invitation,  and  Eli,  after  a  little  hesi- 
tancy, consented. 

Lemuel,  with  a  smile  meant  to  be  friendly,  joined 
the  group  as  Miriam  hastened  away.  "Once  more 
hath  Rimmon,  our  sun-god,  vanquished  the  darkness 
and  started  his  victorious  journey  across  the  face  of 
the  sky,  but  whether  it  be  Rimmon,  god  of  Syria, 
or  Baal,  god  of  Phoenicia,  or  Jehovah,  God  of  Is- 
rael, let  each  worship  according  to  the  custom  of 
the  land,  say  I."  He  lowered  his  voice.  "But  didst 
thou  think  that  Naaman  would  risk  the  favor  of  the 
king  by  importing  a  different  God  for  worship  at  his 
private  altar?" 

Isaac  sprang  to  his  master's  defense.  "It  proveth 
the  generous  kindness  of  the  king,  and  is  but  what 
might  be  expected  in  gratitude  for  healing  at  the 
hands  of  Jehovah's  prophet.  Did  not  Naaman  speak 
to  Elisha,  who  refused  to  condemn  his  faithfulness 
to  his  old  master,  the  king?" 

Half  an  hour  later  they  were  all  in  the  large  and 
splendid  Temple  of  Rimmon,  the  pride  of  Damascus 
architecture  and  decorating.  It  was  beautiful  with 


ISRAEL  253 

flowers,  the  air  heavy  with  incense.  Eli  noted  the 
service,  burdened  with  ceremony,  the  reverence  dur- 
ing the  sacrifice  of  the  burnt-offering,  the  earnestness 
of  the  murmured  prayers,  the  spreading  out  of  the 
hands  in  formal  attitudes  of  supplication,  the  gen- 
eral singing  of  hymns  of  praise.  Even  the  lewd 
dancing  of  the  sun  virgins  filled  him  with  pity  rather 
than  horror. 

He  spoke  his  mind  to  Miriam  as  he  rode  beside 
the  chariot  that  afternoon  on  the  way  to  Israel.  "To 
be  so  sincere  yet  so  mistaken ;  to  go  from  the  altar 
of  Jehovah  to  the  Temple  of  Rimmon;  to  turn  from 
the  true  God  to  the  false ;  to  have  none  to  show  them 
a  better  way !  Nay,  thou  couldst  not  be  reconciled  to 
dwell  in  this  heathen  land." 

For  some  reason  Miriam  resented  his  half-pitying, 
half -complacent  tone.  The  quiet  which  had  pos- 
sessed her  since  the  tearful  farewells  at  Naaman's 
gate  suddenly  forsook  her.  "The  daybreak,  Eli, 
how  cometh  it,  suddenly  and  with  the  noise  of  a 
trumpet  or  silently  and  by  degrees,  one  faint  radiance 
succeeding  another  until  all  is  light?" 

It  was  a  moment  before  he  caught  her  meaning. 
"Yea,  I  see,"  he  said,  glowing  with  admiration,  "and 
thou  hast  led  this  household  to  its  first,  faint  gleam 
— the  gleam  which  shineth  more  and  more  unto  the 
perfect  daybreak." 

In  the  most  splendid  house  of  the  "city"  of  Han- 


254  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

nathon,  the  house  with  the  courtyard  which  Judith 
had  so  coveted,  Abner  addressed  her,  a  little  frown 
on  his  forehead: 

"One  field  after  another  have  I  added  to  what  I 
already  had.  Anxious  enough  were  our  neighbors 
to  sell  and  remove  hence  when  the  Syrian  raid  left 
them  hungry  and  desolate  and  afraid.  For  almost 
nothing  did  many  part  with  their  possessions.  And 
now  the  best  vineyard  of  them  all,  that  held  by 
Sarah,  widow  of  Caleb,  I  cannot  buy  because  thou 
dost  withhold  the  pearl  which  I  might  offer  as  surety 
for  payment  in  full  when  the  grapes  be  gathered  in 
the  fall.  So  obstinate  is  a  woman!  Long  hath 
Sarah  held  the  land  and  offer  after  offer  hath  she 
refused,  saying  the  vineyard  be  all  of  her  living  save 
a  few  olive  trees.  Now,  with  Eli  gone,  a  price  hath 
been  agreed  upon,  but  she  demanded  of  me  a  pledge. 
Come,  give  me  the  pearl." 

Judith's  eyes  besought  him  piteously.  "I  cannot," 
she  faltered. 

He  smiled  unpleasantly,  quite  misunderstanding 
the  reason  for  her  hesitancy.  "Because  it  is  Sarah, 
who  hath  shared  her  home  with  thee  ?  Because  she 
is  old  before  her  time  and  sick?  Because  thou 
thinkest  I  offer  her  too  little?  Five  years  ago  thou 
wert  ready  to  leave  her  roof  for  mine.  Hath  she 
treated  thee  better  than  I?" 

Again  Judith's  eyes  spoke,  this  time  with  a  flash 
of  indignation.  "Never  hath  she  treated  me  well. 


ISRAEL 


255 


Grudgingly  always  did  she  offer  me  a  home.  Daugh- 
ter that  I  have  been  to  her  for  the  past  five  years 
since  Miriam  was  taken  away,  never  doth  she  look 
at  me  but  always  through  me.  My  services  are  ac- 
ceptable but  not  myself.  Never  doth  she  let  me  for- 
get that  I  am  of  strange  people.  It  was  Caleb,  hus- 
band of  Sarah  and  brother  to  my  father,  who  was 
ever  my  friend."  Her  voice  broke,  but  in  a  mo- 
ment she  went  on  more  steadily :  "What  I  do  for 
her  is  in  memory  of  him  and  of  the  little  maid  who 
loved  me." 

"I  see,"  he  declared,  his  eyebrows  drawn  to- 
gether until  they  made  one  line :  "So  it  is  because  I 
refused  help  to  that  visionary,  Eli,  who  desired  a 
gift  toward  the  maid's  ransom,  that  thou  dost  re- 
venge thyself  upon  me  by  withholding  the  pearl.  As 
if  he  would  find  trace  of  her!  As  if  he  would  want 
to  find  what  he  would  find !  Thinkest  thou  a  little 
maid  would  be  safe  in  the  midst  of  a  rough  soldiery? 
Thinkest  thou  the  cruel  Syrians  would  deal  gently 
with  a  child?  Nay,  but  when  Eli  returneth  with  a 
tale  too  pitiful  to  tell  a  sorrowing  mother — " 

Judith  interrupted,  her  words  coming  chokingly : 
"When  Eli  failed  to  secure  thy  help,  I  besought  thine 
aid  for  Miriam,  adding  my  tears  to  his,  thinking 
thou  wouldst  understand  and  sympathize,  thou,  a 
sorrowing  father,  who  had  himself  lost  a  little  maid, 
a  maid  so  tiny  and  so  sweet,  stolen  by  Death,  not 
by  the  Syrians — " 


256  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

She  turned  her  head  and  a  sob  escaped  her.  There 
was  absolute  silence  in  the  apartment.  Abner 
cleared  his  throat. 

"Thou  dost  evade  the  question.  Come,  acknowl- 
edge the  truth.  Thou  dost  revenge  thyself  upon  me 
by  withholding  the  pearl." 

"Nay,"  returned  Judith,  "I  would  scorn  to  avenge 
myself  upon  thee.  "I — I — have  lost  the  pearl." 

He  looked  at  her  in  amazement 

"And  I  feared  to  tell  thee  lest  thou  be  angry," 
she  added,  not  looking  at  him. 

He  strode  across  the  room  and  took  her  face  be- 
tween his  hands,  striving  to  read  her  expression. 
Something  he  saw  there  dictated  his  next  words : 

"Unless  it  had  been  stolen  from  thee,  small  chance 
hast  thou  had  to  lose  it.  Nay>  but  thou  dost  deceive 
me.  Speak  without  fear.  What  hast  thou  done  with 
the  jewel?" 

She  hesitated.  "I  lost  it,"  she  reiterated. 

Storm  clouds  gathered  on  his  face  and  the  tempest 
broke  in  fury  upon  her:  "Thinkest  thou  to  deal 
doubly  with  me  and  yet  find  confidence  and  affec- 
tion ?  Nay,  but  truth  will  I  have  from  thee,  else  this 
home  is  no  longer  thine.  Speak !  What  hast  thou 
done  with  the  pearl?" 

Judith  meditated.  To  confess  while  he  was  in 
that  mood  was  to  find  neither  understanding  nor 
approval.  She  would  wait  until  his  heart  was  more 
tender  toward  her. 


ISRAEL 


257 


"I  have  lost  it,"  she  repeated,  sullenly,  and  cowered 
as  he  came  toward  her. 

Laying  a  rough  hand  on  her  shoulder  he  pointed 
to  the  door:  "Go  thou  and  enter  not  again  until 
truth  be  thy  companion." 

Shaking  off  his  hand  she  faced  him.  Not  a  word 
did  she  utter,  but  the  look  he  never  forgot.  In  a 
moment  she  had  passed  out  of  the  door  into  the  sun- 
kissed  air,  divorced  by  the  one  word  which  an  Orien- 
tal husband  may  speak  at  any  time  to  the  wife  of 
whom  he  has  tired,  and  which  even  a  Jew  occasion- 
ally spoke  in  defiance  of  Mosaic  law. 

At  the  top  of  the  hill  which  crowned  the  Valley 
of  Jiptha-el,  a  woman  bent  and  worn  sat  patiently 
on  the  coarse  green  grass  under  the  shade  of  a  wild 
fig  tree.  As  Judith  appeared  she  addressed  her 
without  salutation  and  without  taking  her  eyes  from 
the  path. 

"Day  after  day,  from  sunrise  to  sunset,  have  I 
stayed  here,  waiting  for  Eli  to  bring  them  back  to 
me.  Yet  if  they  were  coming,  would  they  not  have 
been  here  a  month  ago?  Early  were  the  rains  over 
and  long  hath  travelers  been  passing  the  mouth  of 
the  valley,  but  they  for  whom  I  wait  come  not." 

Her  voice  had  in  it  that  note  of  calm  endurance 
which  belongs  to  those  who  have  suffered.  Judith, 
observing  her  in  the  strong  sunlight,  thought  she 
had  never  looked  so  frail. 


258  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

"To-day  and  to-morrow  and  the  day  after  will 
I  wait,"  went  on  Sarah,  "and  then — "  she  put  her 
hand  over  her  heart — "then  if  they  come  not,  I  will 
know  he  hath  not  found  them  and  I  think  I  cannot 
wait  longer." 

Judith  was  startled  out  of  her  own  sad  musings. 
"It  is  the  first  time  I  have  heard  thee  hint  at  sur- 
render," she  said,  reproachfully.  "Nay,  but  be  of 
good  courage.  What  if  they  should  come  later?" 

"If  they  come  after  I  am  gone,"  was  the  answer, 
the  worn  hand  still  over  the  tired  heart,  "tell  them  I 
waited  as  long  as  I  could,  as  long  as  the  pain  would 
let  me.  Tell  Eli  that  I  say  his  faithfulness  hath 
never  let  me  feel  the  lack  of  a  son,  and  tell  Miriam 
that  no  one  could  take  her  place,  but  that  thou,  like 
a  dear,  elder  daughter,  hath  filled  a  corner  in  my 
heart  all  thine  own." 

Judith  stared  incredulously.  "Thou  canst  not 
mean — "  she  began,  but  Sarah  went  on,  unheeding 
the  interruption: 

"Strange  that  the  maiden  I  could  not  welcome 
should  have  been  my  stay  and  comfort  these  five 
years  and  more !  And  tell  Benjamin,  my  beloved — " 

Judith  brushed  away  the  tears:  "Oh  but  thou 
dost  not  know  the  wrong — " 

Sarah  was  shading  her  eyes  with  her  hand: 
"What  meaneth  that  cloud  of  dust  in  the  valley?" 

"Sheep,"  declared  Judith  with  a  careless  glance. 
"Why,  if  I  had  ever  known  that  thou  hast  even 


ISRAEL  259 

thought  of  me  kindly — and  thou  couldst  not  if  thou 
knewest — " 

"A  flock  of  sheep  larger,  yea,  twice  as  large  as 
Benjamin  tended,"  commented  Sarah.  "See,  the 
shepherd  turneth  them  aside  into  the  old  sheep  fold 
which  hath  not  seen  the  like  since  the  Syrians 
swooped  down  upon  us  so  long  ago.  And  a  band  of 
horsemen  and  a  chariot !  Thinkest  thou  the  king's 
messengers  come  this  way?  But  why  the  flock 
escorted  by  soldiers?" 

She  turned  a  wondering  face  toward  Judith,  but 
her  question  was  answered  when  a  tall  youth  and  a 
maiden,  the  first  of  the  party  to  reach  the  top  of 
the  hill,  paused  to  take  breath  after  the  steep  climb. 
With  true  Eastern  hospitality  Sarah  rose  and  tottered 
feebly  toward  them.  A  moment  more  and  Eli's  voice 
sounded  in  her  ears  and  Miriam's  arms  were  around 
her.  Another  moment  and  Benjamin  was  bending 
over  her.  She  looked  in  bewildered  fashion  from 
one  to  the  other  as  if  scarce  comprehending.  At 
last  she  smiled  upon  them. 

"Judith,"  she  called,  "Judith,  come  thou.  My 
children  must  be  all  together,"  and  closed  her  eyes 
with  a  little  sigh  of  contentment. 

"Then  Rachel  must  be  here  also,"  said  Benjamin, 
drawing  her  toward  him  as  she  held  the  babe. 

"And  Nathan  too,"  put  in  Eli,  taking  his  brother 
by  the  arm. 

Among  them  all  they  carried  Sarah  to  her  old 


26o  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

home  and,  without  one  backward  glance,  the  happy, 
chattering  group  entered,  leaving  a  lone  figure  upon 
the  hilltop. 

It  was  a  strange  sight  to  be  seen  in  Israel,  that 
soldier  in  splendid  Syrian  dress,  lingering  there. 
He  noted  the  village  straggling  up  the  unpaved 
street,  the  tender  green  of  growing  things  in  the 
valley  beneath,  the  low  cloud  of  dust  hovering  over 
the  sheepfold.  Memory  was  likewise  busy.  He 
recalled  Miriam's  joy  in  Eli's  coming  to  Damascus, 
her  unwonted  gayety  since  they  had  started  for  the 
Land  of  Israel,  her  present  absorption  in  her 
mother.  Yet  could  aught  else  be  expected  ?  Reason- 
ing with  himself,  excusing  her,  striving  to  stifle  the 
pain  of  her  thoughtlessness,  he  descended  the  hill 
to  the  encampment  of  the  soldiers. 

"Yea,"  he  said  mournfully  to  himself,  "we  have 
lost  our  little  maid,"  and  then,  again,  with  heart- 
sick despair,  "I  have  lost  my  little  maid." 


CHAPTER  XXIV 
WAITING 

IN  the  House  of  Abner  the  usual  household  scenes 
mocked  the  sorrowing  man  who  beheld  them. 
"Empty,  empty,  empty!"  he  moaned.  "My  Rose  of 
Sharon  have  I  plucked  from  its  stem  and  cast  aside. 
Ah,  woe  is  my  portion!" 

Striding  down  the  village  street  long  before  the 
morning  mists  had  faded,  he  paused  in  front  of 
Sarah's  house,  thereby  startling  a  beautiful  girl  in 
foreign  raiment  who  had  just  stepped  over  the 
threshold  and  surprising  himself  scarcely  less.  Then 
he  recalled  the  conversation  of  his  excited  servants 
the  day  before,  tidings  which  had  been  unheeded  in 
his  own  grief.  This  must  be  Miriam! 

"Nay,"  she  replied  to  his  question,  "my  mother 
and  I  are  quite  alone.  Very  early  this  morning  did 
Benjamin  take  Rachel  and  their  little  son  to  the 
house  of  her  parents,  whom  she  saw  but  briefly  yes- 
terday. Eli  and  Nathan  soon  afterward  took  the 
path  down  the  hill  to  the  camp  of  the  soldiers,  and 
Judith  departed  likewise.  Nay,  I  know  not  where." 

He  was  hastening  away  when  she  ran  and  pros- 
trated herself  in  his  path.  "My  lord  hath  been  good 
to  his  servant  I  thank  thee  for  the  pearl  which 

261 


262  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

thou  didst  send  to  Syria  by  the  hand  of  Eli  for  my 
ransom." 

Abner  listened  dully.  "A  pearl,  thou  sayest?" 
And  then  the  significance  of  her  speech  dawned  upon 
him.  "Rise  thou,"  he  commanded,  suavely,  "it  was 
but  a  small  gift.  Happy  am  I  that  it  hath  helped  to 
purchase  thy  freedom." 

A  tenderly  reminiscent  smile  played  around 
Miriam's  mouth.  "Nay,"  she  said,  "I  have  returned 
to  Israel  because  of  a  jewel  more  precious  than  any 
found  in  earth  or  sea:  the  love  of  my  master  and 
mistress.  Naught  would  they  accept  but  gave  me 
freedom  and  sent  me  to  my  mother  with  a  gift  in 
mine  hand." 

"But  the  pearl,"  inquired  Abner,  eagerly.  "What 
hath  become  of  the  jewel?" 

"Eli  hath  already  given  it  back  to  Judith,  from 
whom  he  received  it,"  she  answered,  and  with  cool 
adieux  turned  and  left  him. 

He  passed  a  hand  over  his  brow,  made  as  if  to 
turn  back,  hesitated  and  then  went  on,  groping  his 
way  down  the  hill  and  through  the  fields,  wet  with 
the  night  dews.  The  camp  of  the  soldiers,  so  busy 
a  scene  at  sunset,  was  now  deserted,  and  huddled 
over  the  still  warm  ashes  of  what  had  recently  been 
a  fire  was  the  figure  he  sought. 

"I — arrived — too — late.  They — were — already — 
gone,"  she  said,  slowly,  in  response  to  his  excited 
inquiry. 


WAITING  263 

Abner  laid  a  shaking  hand  upon  her  shoulder.  A 
crimson  flush  crept  into  the  pale  cheek.  Rising  sud- 
denly she  wrenched  herself  from  his  grasp  and 
thrust  something  into  his  hand.  "Take  it,"  she  cried. 
"I  should  have  known  thou  wouldst  have  followed 
me  even  to  Damascus  to  get  it  back.  Lo,  thou  hast 
that  which  thou  seekest,"  and  turning,  she  fled. 

He  glanced  hastily  at  the  object  she  had  given 
him.  It  was  the  pearl.  With  sudden  passion  he 
threw  it  into  the  unsearchable  depths  of  the  canyon 
and  swiftly  followed  Judith,  but  a  loose  stone  ended 
the  pursuit.  With  a  cry  of  pain  she  stumbled  and 
fell,  and  when  he  bent  over  the  prostrate  figure  a 
moment  later  her  eyes  were  closed.  It  was  Eli  who 
answered  Abner's  hail  and  helped  him  carry  his  bur- 
den up  the  hill.  Stopping  for  a  moment's  rest  they 
met  Miriam  on  her  way  to  the  spring. 

With  anxious  questions  and  practical  sympathy 
the  girl  knelt  beside  her  cousin,  slipping  off  the  san- 
dal and  examining  the  rapidly  swelling  ankle. 
"Straight  to  my  mother's  house,"  she  suggested. 
"It  is  so  near,"  but  Abner  objected. 

"To  her  own  home,"  he  commanded,  sharply, 
preparing  to  resume  his  load. 

Judith's  eyes  flew  open.  "Nay,"  she  protested 
feebly.  "Thou  shouldst  know  that  truth  is  not  my 
companion  nor  hath  ever  been.  I  stole  the  pearl. 
It  is  that  for  which  Caleb,  brother  to  my  father,  was 
slain,  and  which  Sarah,  who  hath  been  a  mother  to 


264  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

me,  cast  away  in  her  despair.  I  found  it  and  used  it 
to  serve  my  own  ends.  Then,  when  it  had  long  been 
a  coal  of  fire  in  my  bosom  I  gave  it  to  Eli  to  help 
with  the  little  maid's  ransom.  Yet  sin  reapeth  sorrow 
as  surely  as  harvest  followeth  the  time  of  sowing. 
Because  of  the  pearl  my  husband  hath  divorced  me, 
and  lest  my  disgrace  be  known  to  those  to  whom  it 
would  bring  grief,  I  determined  to  use  the  jewel  to 
purchase  my  way  to  Damascus  with  the  soldiers." 

Miriam's  amazed  look  encountered  Eli's  stern  one. 
"I  knew  not,"  he  began,  but  Miriam  was  stroking 
Judith's  forehead  and  speaking  tenderly.  "Always 
hast  thou  been  unhappy  in  Hannathon,  for  wast  not 
thy  sadness  mine?  Yea,  but  come  thou.  Behold, 
our  home  is  thine  also." 

"Nay,"  said  Abner  with  decision,  "we  take  thee 
to  thine  own  house,  thine  and  mine.  As  for  the 
pearl,  I  knew  not  it  belonged  to  Sarah.  I  hated  it 
for  the  trouble  it  hath  caused  thee  and  me  and  just 
now  I  flung  it  into  the  gorge." 

Eli  gasped.  "But  thou  wilt  pay,"  he  insisted. 
"Its  value  shalt  thou  redeem,  that  the  widow  and 
the  orphan  be  not  robbed." 

Miriam  was  quite  as  decided.  "Nay,  it  hath 
ever  been  an  evil  thing,  and  with  the  gift  sent  by 
Naaman  my  master,  my  mother  will  not  miss  the 
pearl.  Rather  would  she  wish  it  counted  dead  now 
that  it  hath  been  buried.  Her  anxiety  will  be  for 
Judith.  Take  her  to  our  house,  I  pray  thee." 


WAITING  265 

But  he  would  not  and  the  little  procession  resumed 
its  slow  march  to  his  abode. 

An  hour  later  Miriam  remembered  the  aban- 
doned water  jar,  and  bidding  her  cousin  an  affection- 
ate farewell,  hastened  to  reclaim  her  forgotten  prop- 
erty. The  sun  had  finally  conquered  the  fog  and 
sweet-scented  breezes  played  with  her  hair,  but  the 
sight  of  Eli,  dolorously  gazing  into  the  distance, 
hushed  the  song  in  her  heart. 

He  broke  the  news  without  preamble.  "Nathan 
hath  returned  to  Damascus  with  the  soldiers." 

The  water  jar  came  near  crashing  to  the  earth  in 
Miriam's  consternation. 

"Oft  have  we  talked  of  our  future  plans  now  that 
thou  art  provided  for,"  went  on  Eli,  sure  of  under- 
standing, "but  only  this  morning,  when  we  visited 
the  camp,  did  he  tell  me  of  his  resolve.  Then  I 
could  not  say  him  nay,  knowing  that  here  he  must 
work  for  Abner,  whom  we  like  not,  and  I  was  the 
more  persuaded  when  Isaac,  chief  of  the  band  which 
brought  us  on  our  way,  promised  to  be  surety  for 
the  lad." 

Miriam  was  staring  wild-eyed  into  the  valley  at 
their  feet.  "Gone,  thou  sayest?  The  soldiers  gone? 
And  Isaac  came  not  to  my  mother's  house,  came  not 
to  tell  me  that  he  goeth — " 

Eli  nodded  impatiently.  "Thinkest  thou  he  would 
have  said  more  to  thee  than  to  me  ?  A  likable  young 
man  and  one  in  whom  remorse  hath  kindled  the 


266  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

fires  of  penitence  which  alone  purifieth.  He  hath 
restored  thee  to  the  home  from  which  thou  wert 
stolen,  and  he  saith  that  when  the  rains  are  over  and 
the  roads  passable  once  more  he  will  return  to  see 
if  thou  dost  wish  to  go  back  to  Damascus.  As  if 
thou  wouldst  again  be  bound  by  the  cords  of 
bondage !" 

But  Miriam  was  half-way  down  the  hill,  sobbing 
bitterly,  leaving  Eli  to  gaze  after  her  in  great  and 
growing  bewilderment. 

The  same  sun  which  had  kissed  into  bloom  the 
wild  flowers  of  Israel  shone  with  dazzling  brightness 
upon  the  white  walls  of  Damascus,  warming  youth 
into  gayety  and  age  into  contentment,  but  its  rays 
were  futile  to  coax  into  cheerfulness  the  great  House 
of  Naaman.  There  was  an  inexplicable  sense  of  loss. 
The  maid  servants  grumbled  among  themselves  at 
the  uncertainty  of  Milcah's  temper  and  longed  for 
Miriam,  their  ever-sympathetic  mediator.  The  men 
servants  hoped  they  would  see  her  bright  face  again. 

"Not  that  she  ever  had  much  to  say,"  explained 
the  old  gatekeeper,  "and  few  were  the  smiles  she  had 
for  the  young  men,  as  most  maids  have,  but  the  low- 
est servant  and  the  grandest  visitor  were  alike  to 
her.  Well  do  I  remember — "  and  the  garrulous 
tongue  would  run  on  as  long  as  it  had  an  audience. 

Nor  were  the  servants  the  only  ones  who  missed 
Miriam.  With  light  fingers  Adah  smoothed  the 


WAITING  267 

creases  from  between  her  brows.  "The  maid  serv- 
ants drive  me  frantic,"  she  moaned.  "  'Do  I  want 
this  ?'  and  'how  will  I  have  that  ?'  The  little  maid 
would  have  known  without  asking  and  seen  that  it 
was  done  without  confusion.  My  heart  yearneth 
over  the  maiden." 

The  soldier  standing  respectfully  on  the  other  side 
of  the  room  nodded.  "The  young  man  Eli,  to  whom 
I  talked  long,  saith  that  the  mother  faileth  fast. 
Peradventure  Miriam  will  be  free  to  return  to  Syria 
if  she  so  desire." 

Adah's  irritation  increased.  "The  young  man  Eli ! 
Admire  him  I  must,  but  like  him  I  cannot,  for  would 
he  not  rob  thy  master  and  me  of  the  sunbeam  which 
hath  gladdened  our  hearts — the  little  maid  we  have 
come  to  love  as  a  daughter?  Nay,  but  not  for 
always.  One  year,  Isaac,  shalt  thou  remain  in  Syria, 
then  shalt  thou  return  to  Israel  with  a  gift  in  thine 
hand,  bringing  Miriam  and  her  mother  gently  and 
by  slow  degrees  if  the  woman  be  feeble.  Here  shall 
the  household  delight  to  do  her  honor.  One  year, 
Isaac,  from  the  time  our  little  maid  went  away  shall 
she  come  back  to  us!" 

With  this  decree  of  its  mistress,  the  House  of 
Naaman  entered,  with  what  patience  it  could,  upon 
its  period  of  waiting. 

But  Miriam  did  not  return  at  the  end  of  a  year. 
The  wild  flowers  faded  in  Israel;  the  figs  ripened 


268  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

and  were  gone ;  the  hills  grew  bare  and  yellow  under 
the  sun's  persistent  glare;  the  grapes  turned  dusky 
and  filled  with  liquid  sweetness ;  the  olive  trees  blos- 
somed and  bore  and  were  denuded ;  the  rains  came 
and  went;  barley  and  wheat  were  sowed  and  ma- 
tured and  were  harvested  and  wild  flowers  bloomed 
a  second  time  in  Israel.  It  was  another  spring,  the 
time  Isaac  had  said  he  would  come,  but  though 
Miriam  strained  her  eyes  day  after  day  gazing  afar, 
no  foreign  horsemen,  no  chariot,  no  Syrian  camels 
bestirred  the  dust  of  the  Valley  of  Jiptha-el. 

Rachel  touched  her  lightly  on  the  shoulder  as  she 
stood  in  the  doorway.  There  was  yearning  tender- 
ness in  the  older  woman's  tones:  "Still  waitest 
thou,  little  maid?  Peradventure  they  think  thy 
mother  hath  need  of  thee,  knowing  not  that  she 
sleepeth  long  months  in  the  sepulcher  of  thy  people. 
Ample  time  hath  there  been  since  the  rains  ceased  to 
take  even  the  long  journey  from  Damascus." 

Miriam  turned  a  musing  countenance.  "But  when 
Isaac  talked  last  with  Eli  he  said  he  would  return 
when  the  rains  were  over  to  see  how  it  fareth  with 
me  and  to  bring  me  tidings  of  my  home." 

Rachel  sighed  and  drew  the  girl  close.  "Is  not 
thy  mother's  dwelling  'home'?  And  behold  how 
Benjamin  and  little  Caleb  and  I  have  loved  thee. 
Are  we  not  dearer  than  any  in  the  House  of  Naa- 
man?" 

Miriam  smiled  and  returned  the  caress.    "The  love 


WAITING  269 

light  in  thine  eyes  is  beautiful  and  it  filleth  me  with 
delight  when  it  shineth  upon  me,  but  mostly  doth  it 
shine  for  thy  husband  and  babe  and  for  joy  in  thy 
home,  not  for  thy  sister." 

"It  is  the  way  with  a  woman,"  was  the  answer, 
"as  some  day  thou  wilt  know  for  thyself,  for  I  have 
seen  a  look  in  eyes  that  followed  thee,  such  a  look 
as  a  man  giveth  to  but  one  maid,  though  peradven- 
ture  thou  knowest — " 

She  paused,  but  as  there  was  no  reply  and 
Miriam's  face  was  turned  away,  she  hurried  on: 
"And  so  thou  wilt  soon  have  a  home  of  thine  own 
if  that  is  what  thou  desirest." 

Miriam  at  last  found  voice:  "'Home'  is  where 
thou  art  needed,  Rachel,  where  thou  hast  a  place  no 
other  can  fill.  Here  in  Israel,  now  that  my  mother 
hath  left  me — "  there  was  a  choking  pause — "I  am 
not  necessary  as  I  am  to  the  household  in  Syria. 
Milcah  groweth  feeble  in  body  and  impatient  in 
mind.  The  maid  servants  resent  her  sharpness,  and 
my  mistress  is  distressed  when  things  go  not  well. 
But  most  of  all  do  they  need  help  to  walk  in  the  way 
of  Jehovah,  for  him  only  do  they  serve  since  the 
healing  of  my  master  at  his  word.  So  do  I  wait  until 
my  mistress  sendeth.  Nay,"  as  Rachel  affection- 
ately protested,  "nay,  I  shall  not  be  disappointed, 
for  did  not  Isaac  say  he  would  come  ?" 

And  so  she  waited.  Again  the  wild  flowers  faded 
and  the  figs  ripened  and  the  hills  grew  sere  and 


270  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

brown.  It  was  midsummer.  This  time  a  pilgrim 
approached  Hannathon,  but  he  was  alone  and  on 
foot,  taking  the  steep  hills  and  fertile  vales  with  an 
easy,  swinging  stride  as  none  but  a  Highlander,  born 
and  bred,  could  have  taken  them.  From  the  flat 
roof  where  she  was  spreading  linen  to  dry,  Miriam 
saw  him  while  yet  a  great  way  off  and  called  to  Ra- 
chel exultantly: 

"Eli  cometh." 

She  did  not  go  to  meet  him.  Instead,  she  hastily 
descended  the  stairs  and  retreated  within  the  house, 
excitement  in  her  manner  and  an  unwonted  color  in 
her  cheeks.  When  he  entered,  though  they  spoke 
only  commonplaces,  neither  of  them  observed  that 
Rachel  took  the  child  and  slipped  quietly  out  of  the 
house  with  a  smiling  glance  backward.  Quite  ab- 
sorbed in  each  other,  they  sat  on  one  of  the  low 
benches  which  lined  three  sides  of  the  room. 

"Two  years  hath  it  been,  Miriam,  since  I  joined 
myself  to  the  young  men,  the  Sons  of  the  Prophet. 
Two  full  years  have  I  hung  upon  the  words  of  our 
great  master,  Elisha,  learning  much  concerning  our 
Law  and  its  interpretation,  and  things  of  lesser  im- 
portance such  as  music  and  sacred  poetry.  Thinkest 
thou  not  my  mother  would  be  pleased  to  know  that 
I  am  of  this  company,  even  as  was  my  father?" 

The  girl's  face  was  glowing  with  enthusiasm.  "It 
is  as  thou  and  I  have  dreamed  from  childhood,  Eli." 

"A  little  while  shall  I  spend  with  thee  and  with 


WAITING  271 

Benjamin,  for  I  have  a  mind  to  learn  the  care  of  a 
flock.  Then,  with  the  treasure  not  needed  for  thy 
ransom  will  I  purchase  sheep  and  goats,  which  will 
supply  my  living  while  I  preach  the  word  of  Je- 
hovah to  this  froward  people.  Beyond  that  thou 
knowest — thou  must  know — my  heart's  desire." 

He  took  her  hand  in  his  and  although  it  trembled 
slightly  it  was  not  withdrawn. 

"I  think  there  will  be  no  objection  from  thy 
brother,  for  long  hath  he  known  me,  so  I  shall  speak 
to  him  in  due  time  without  dread,  but  concerned  am 
I  to  know  if  thou  wouldst  be  satisfied  so  to  spend 
thy  life." 

Her  face  paled  under  his  anxious  scrutiny.  "Nay, 
I  could  not,"  she  faltered. 

He  was  silent  a  long  moment,  and  when  he  spoke 
his  voice  betrayed  profound  sorrow.  "It  is  even  as 
I  feared.  In  Damascus,  where  thy  impressionable 
years  were  spent,  thou  hast  learned  the  luxury  which 
belongeth  alone  to  kings'  courts.  Thou  wouldst 
not  be  willing  to  toil  as  do  the  women  of  Israel, 
where  there  is  neither  man  servant  nor  maid  servant. 
Have  I  not  been  in  Syria  and  do  I  not  know  how 
different  are  the  ways  there  and  here?" 

She  disengaged  her  hand  and  faced  him  earnestly : 
"Not  because  of  its  riches,  Eli,  must  I  return  to  the 
House  of  Naaman,  but  because  of  its  poverty.  Ex- 
cept through  me  they  know  not  Jehovah." 

"And  except  we  of  prophetic  vision  teach  him  in 


272  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

Israel,  the  people  are  altogether  turned  unto  idols," 
he  answered,  in  his  eyes  the  fanatical  gleam  of  the 
zealot. 

"Yea,  but  there  be  many  Sons  of  the  Prophet  in 
Israel.  There  be  none  in  Syria.  Save  as  tidings  of 
the  healing  of  my  master  hath  been  scattered  abroad 
and  praise  given  to  the  God  by  whose  hand  it  was 
performed,  none  knoweth  Jehovah.  He  is  merely 
the  God  of  Israel,  their  sometimes-enemies  in  the 
south,  and  Rimmon  and  Baal  and  a  host  of  others 
are  more  real  to  them.  Come  thou  with  me  to  Da- 
mascus, where  thou  art  needed,  and  instead  of  a 
shepherd,  thou  shalt  be  a  scribe,  and  being  diligent 
in  the  business  of  Naaman,  thou  shalt  also  instruct 
the  household  and  preach  the  word  of  the  Lord  to 
those  who  know  it  not  otherwise.  Say  thou  wilt 
come,"  she  pleaded,  but  he  only  gazed  at  her  pity- 
ingly. 

"I  pray  thee,  Miriam,  deceive  not  thyself.  For 
more  than  a  year  hast  thou  waited  for  a  messenger 
from  Syria  and  grown  pale  and  thin  with  disap- 
pointment. Rachel  hath  told  me,  and  have  I  not  seen 
for  myself  when  I  came  to  visit  thee?  Nay,  for  if 
one  were  coming,  there  hath  been  time  and  to  spare." 
His  brow  clouded.  "Yet  had  I  hoped  to  hear  from 
Nathan  through  that  same  messenger.  Both  thou 
and  I  didst  trust  the  soldier,  and  thou  more  than  I." 

The  color  sprang  again  to  Miriam's  cheek.  "My 
trust  will  not  be  in  vain,"  she  declared,  quietly. 


WAITING  273 

"Something  of  ill  hath  happened  in  Damascus,  else 
my  mistress  would  have  sent,  but  Isaac  will  yet 
come." 

The  conversation  was  interrupted  by  Rachel's 
entrance,  and  Miriam,  making  an  excuse  of  the  linen 
on  the  roof,  ran  quickly  up  the  stairs  to  a  task  which 
consumed  a  vast  amount  of  time  even  in  the  leisurely 
East,  where  time  counted  for  little. 


CHAPTER  XXV 
ANTICIPATION 

ONCE  again  Isaac  stood  before  Adah,  mistress 
of  the  House  of  Naaman.  He  bowed  low.  "Every- 
thing is  in  readiness  for  our  departure  to  Israel.  The 
caravan  waiteth  without  the  gate  and  the  maid  serv- 
ants thou  art  sending  to  attend  upon  Miriam  are  at 
hand,  but  lest  thou  shouldst  have  some  last  instruc- 
tions for  thy  servant — " 

Adah  briefly  acknowledged  the  courtesy  and  the 
courtier.  She  was  thinner  than  of  old,  there  was 
more  of  gray  in  her  hair  and  the  lines  were  deeper 
between  her  eyes.  Now  she  rested  her  head  upon 
her  hand  in  the  languor  so  becoming  and  so  habitual. 

"Only  that  thou  shouldst  bring  the  maid  and  her 
mother,"  she  answered,  "with  any  others  she  may 
not  care  to  leave  behind.  If  she  will  but  come,  for 
she  is  free  to  choose,  as  thou  knowest !  Thou  takest 
a  present  in  thine  hand.  Bring  the  maid  safely,  but 
in  haste,  for  she  is  dear  unto  me." 

The  messenger  bowed  his  understanding  of  his 
orders,  but  the  lady  was  not  through  with  the  con- 
ference. She  continued,  musingly:  "Two  years 
since  she  left  us,  Isaac,  and  one  since  we  had  con- 
fidently planned  for  her  return.  It  hath  been  a  long, 

274 


ANTICIPATION  275 

long  year,  full  of  alarm  and  anxiety  for  us  and  of 
waiting  for  her.  //  she  hath  waited!  Miriam  is 
now  at  an  age  when  maidens  dream  romantic,  va- 
grant dreams  of  mating.  Oft  in  the  night  seasons 
have  I  lain  awake  wondering  if,  in  despair  of  a 
Syrian  messenger,  she  hath  betrothed  herself  or  pos- 
sibly married" — the  speaker  shuddered — "some  Is- 
raelitish  youth  who  would  not  be  at  home  in  Da- 
mascus or  the  House  of  Naaman.  As  thou  knowest, 
Syrian  ways  are  more  gentle  and  their  speech  less 
rough  than  those  of  Israel."  She  paused,  evidently 
expecting  some  comforting  assurance  that  her  fears 
were  not,  could  not,  be  true. 

"But  the  tones  of  love  are  as  soft  in  one  tongue 
as  in  another,  and  when  interpreted  to  a  maiden's 
willing  heart  they  are  softer  still,"  he  said,  gently. 

She  was  exasperated  at  his  answer,  not  knowing 
what  it  had  cost  him. 

"Miriam  gave  promise  of  beauty,"  she  continued, 
"and  Syrian  lovers  will  she  have  in  plenty,  espe- 
cially when  it  is  known  that  the  favor  of  the  House 
of  Naaman  goeth  with  her.  Already  one,  hoping 
to  be  the  first,  hath  asked  her  of  me  in  marriage." 

The  start  which  Isaac  gave  was  not  lost  upon 
Adah,  but  she  affected  blindness. 

"Thou  knowest  him  well.  It  is  thy  friend, 
Lemuel." 

The  young  soldier  was  visibly  agitated.  He  pros- 
trated himself  before  Adah,  entreating  her  atten- 


276  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

tion:  "And  if  thy  servant  hath  found  favor  in  thy 
sight  grant  that  this  sacrifice  shall  not  be.  Always 
hath  the  maid  feared  and  hated  the  man  and  with 
good  cause,  as  we  who  know  him  can  testify." 

He  hesitated  before  making  a  second  request : 
"No  man  liveth  who  is  good  enough  for  her,  but  al- 
most am  I  persuaded  that  she  would  rather  be  given 
into  my  care." 

Adah  repressed  a  smile.  "I  shall  give  Miriam  to 
someone  more  to  my  liking  and  to  hers  than  is 
Lemuel,  but  I  had  not  supposed  thou  wouldst  have 
taken  advantage  of  the  maid's  childish  expressions 
of  fondness  for  thee  to  weave  into  them  meanings 
she  could  not  then  understand." 

Isaac's  cheek  flushed  under  his  soldier  tan.  "I 
have  not,  my  mistress,  and  I  would  not.  A  thousand 
times  hath  she  innocently  told  me  that  which  I  long 
to  hear  her  say  with  full  knowledge  of  its  import." 

His  manner  changed  to  sadness.  "Yet  do  I  know 
that  always  she  hath  carried  in  her  heart  the  image 
of  Eli,  and  that  she  was  greatly  touched  by  his  de- 
sire to  ransom  her  from  what  he  supposed  was  cruel 
slavery.  He  hath  the  soul  of  a  saint  and  the  mind 
of  a  seer,  while  thy  servant  is  naught  but  a  soldier. 
I  fear  that  when  I  reach  Hannathon  it  will  be  to  find 
her  choice  hath  already  been  made  and  needeth  but 
thine  approval." 

Adah  frowned.  "Thy  master's  plans  cannot  be 
lightly  changed.  This  is  a  childless  home  and  its 


ANTICIPATION  277 

treasure  is  great.  We  are  not  unmindful  of  the  two 
through  whose  loving  devotion  much  of  its  happi- 
ness hath  come.  Already  hath  thy  master  divided 
between  thee  and  Miriam  the  present  which  the 
prophet  of  Israel  refused,  and  seeing  thy  tender  af- 
fection each  for  the  other,  we  have  determined  that 
when  the  maid  is  old  enough  she  shall  be  given 
thee  in  marriage.  Thus  shall  the  joy  and  content- 
ment of  both  be  assured,  and  thou  shalt  be  unto  us 
in  our  age  and  helplessness  as  the  pillars  are  to  the 
temple." 

The  maid  servant  who  was  fanning  her  mistress 
gasped  audibly,  for  which  indecorum  the  sorely  dis- 
pleased Adah  sent  her  hastily  and  in  disgrace  from 
the  room,  but  the  punishment  rested  lightly.  Once 
outside  the  angle  of  vision  of  those  within,  feet  and 
tongue  were  nimble  in  disseminating  this  surprising 
bit  of  news.  Only  Milcah,  exacting  and  irritable, 
did  the  excited  servants  fear  to  approach.  The  tid- 
ings spread,  however,  not  only  within  the  gate  but 
without,  and  provided  a  choice  bit  of  gossip  for  the 
caravan,  impatiently  awaiting  its  leader.  Two  of 
the  company  failed  to  receive  the  message  with  the 
laughing  approval  of  the  others :  over  the  sensitive 
face  of  a  boy  passed  a  look  of  surprise,  and  the  man 
next  to  him  smiled  an  evil  smile. 

Meanwhile  Isaac  had  stammered  his  thanks  and 
had  again  become  a  suppliant:  "But  if  it  please 
not  the  maid,  my  mistress,  I  pray  thee  to  entreat  thy 


278  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

husband  that  he  transfer  his  favor  to  the  young 
man  Eli.  I  think  there  can  be  no  other  in  Miriam's 
thoughts.  Thou  wilt  find  him  worthy,  and  in  the 
maiden's  joy  thou  shalt  have  thy  reward." 

Adah  was  frankly  amused.  "Thou  dost  plead 
well  to  be  released.  Peradventure  some  other 
maiden — "  but  the  look  on  his  face  checked  the  sug- 
gestion. 

"Not  for  admiration  of  Eli  do  I  speak,  but  for  love 
of  Miriam,"  he  declared.  "The  circumstances  in 
which  I  would  have  brought  another  maiden  to  the 
House  of  Naaman  could  not  be  justified  in  the  pure 
eyes  of  my  little  maid." 

"Then  am  I  sure  that  thy  master's  confidence  hath 
not  been  misplaced,"  she  answered,  softly,  "and  a 
maiden's  unruly  heart  is  not  always  wise.  Neverthe- 
less, do  thou  bring  the  young  man  if  it  seemeth 
right  unto  thee.  I  trust  to  thy  discretion,  and  when  I 
have  had  time  to  talk  to  Miriam  and  to  observe  for 
myself,  I  shall  be  better  able  to  judge  what  is  best. 
Only  go  thou  quickly  and  delay  not." 

Left  alone,  Adah  laughed  quietly  to  herself.  "If 
Miriam  had  the  eyes  of  experience,  she  would  prefer 
the  good-looking  young  soldier  who  loveth  her  un- 
selfishly to  the  gifted  young  fanatic  who  loveth  an 
ideal  more  than  any  maid.  I  shall  not  compel  her 
choice,  but  her  master  will  like  not  the  idea  of  shar- 
ing the  treasure  of  the  House  of  Naaman  with  a 
stranger." 


ANTICIPATION  279 

Quite  unexpectedly  Milcah  bent  over  her,  having 
entered  the  apartment  unobserved  while  her  mis- 
tress mused.  "Didst  thou  wish  something?  I 
thought  I  heard  thee  speak.  That  worthless  maid 
I  sent  in  here  an  hour  ago  hath  not  wit  to  do  aught 
save  curl  her  hair  and  make  eyes  at  the  men  serv- 
ants." The  woman  wiped  away  a  tear  and  con- 
tinued, speaking  unsteadily :  "The  caravan  hath  just 
started.  Many  a  time  have  I  seen  my  brother  ride 
to  war  and  cared  less,  but  to-day  it  seemeth  so  joy- 
ful it  is  almost  solemn." 

All  at  once  the  peace-loving  Adah  felt  a  vague  un- 
easiness, dreading  the  unpleasantness  of  Milcah's 
disapproval.  Clearly  she  had  a  duty  of  preparation. 

"But  if  Isaac  should  ever  think  of  marrying — " 
she  began,  but  only  to  be  promptly  and  tearfully 
interrupted : 

"Say  not  so,  for  I  should  hate  his  wife.  Never  a 
maid  have  I  seen  save  our  little  Miriam  that  I  could 
regard  with  sisterly  affection,  and  he  would  never 
think  of  the  child  that  way." 

Up  the  Valley  of  Jiptha-el  in  the  heat  of  midsum- 
mer dashed  a  lone  horseman.  No  anxious  watcher 
from  the  roof  heralded  his  approach,  but  every  echo 
sought  to  imitate  his  wild  shouts.  The  village  was 
surprised,  alarmed,  but  comforted  when  the  horse- 
man was  discovered  to  be  Nathan — reckless,  jubi- 
lant, noisy,  the  veteran  of  one  war  and  a  braggart. 


28o  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

In  a  single  breath  he  poured  out  greetings,  exclama- 
tions, comments  and  all  the  gossip  of  Damascus. 

Isaac  was  coming,  but  just  this  side  of  the  Jordan 
he  had  been  obliged  to  make  camp  with  a  sick  soldier, 
Lemuel  by  name,  so  he  (Nathan),  unable  to  wait, 
had  pushed  on  alone.  Danger  there  was  (his  man- 
ner became  very  self-important),  but  what  of  that 
to  one  who  had  faced  the  hordes  of  the  desert?  Last 
year  when  the  fruit  trees  first  blossomed  around 
Damascus,  its  peace  and  prosperity  had  been  threat- 
ened by  the  half-wild  tribes  who  roamed  the  desert 
to  the  east;  beautiful,  rich,  lonely  Damascus,  whose 
stoutest  walls  were  her  walls  of  living  men,  her 
soldiery !  But  it  had  held,  thanks  to  Naaman,  Cap- 
tain of  the  Host,  who  was  respected  and  adored  as 
no  other  man  in  the  city. 

It  was  the  younger  men  who  had  showed  most 
valor.  Once  he  (Nathan)  had  been  surrounded  by 
five  dark-skinned,  savage  enemies.  Making  ready 
his  sling  he  was  taking  aim  and  would  have  slain 
them  all  had  not  Isaac  and  his  servant  interfered. 
He  bore  them  no  malice,  but  when  Isaac  realized 
that  they  had  not  been  needed  he  had  given  him  a 
horse  all  his  own.  Fine  horse  it  was  with  dainty 
feet  and  fiery  spirit,  Isaac's  share  of  the  spoils  of 
battle,  but  he  would  probably  never  miss  it.  Every- 
body knew  he  stood  high  in  favor  with  the  House  of 
Naaman.  He  might  in  time  be  chief  steward  and 
rich. 


ANTICIPATION  281 

This  spring  not  a  desert  chieftain  had  dared  even 
to  gaze  upon  Damascus,  but  there  were  rumors  that 
the  Assyrian  hosts  came  nearer  and  nearer.  Not 
a  soldier  was  allowed  to  leave  the  city.  Day  and 
night  a  watch  had  been  maintained  and  every  fight- 
ing man  stood  ready,  but  the  Assyrians  tarried. 
Pity,  too !  It  would  have  been  glorious  to  engage  in 
battle  with  the  finest  army  in  the  world.  But  no 
enemies  having  appeared  by  midsummer  and  scout- 
ing parties  reporting  the  danger  past  for  a  time  at 
least,  Isaac  had  been  allowed  to  take  a  small  band 
into  Israel  to  render  the  journey  to  Syria  safe  for 
Miriam.  No  doubt  he  would  wish  to  hurry  back, 
for  was  he  not  going  to  be  married?  The  tidings 
had  been  scattered  abroad  the  morning  they  had 
started.  Nay,  he  knew  nothing  more. 

All  at  once  Nathan  realized  that  his  speech  had 
been  undiplomatic,  and  hastily  turned  his  attention 
to  Hannathon.  Eli  was  taller  and  thinner  than  ever. 
He  ought  to  be  a  soldier  and  properly  fed.  A  good 
fighter  he  would  make  too.  Miriam  had  become 
amazingly  pretty.  If  she  found  there  was  no  one  to 
marry  her,  he  would  be  willing.  She  looked  some- 
thing like  Rachel  did  before  she  faded  out  so.  How 
was  Benjamin  ?  He  would  ride  out  to  find  him  after 
awhile,  for  would  he  not  want  to  see  the  horse?  And 
how  the  little  boy  had  grown!  Who  would  have 
supposed  that  such  a  sturdy,  bright-looking  young- 
ster could  have  developed  from  that  ugly,  stupid 


282  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

baby?  The  village  was  just  the  same;  very  unexcit- 
ing after  Damascus.  The  only  new  thing  was  the 
house.  So  the  old  was  not  good  enough,  and  they 
had  built  one  like  those  in  Syria !  Well,  they  were 
more  comfortable.  How  sad  that  Sarah  had  not 
liked  it !  She  might  have  lived  longer  if  she  had  not 
been  obliged  to  change  her  ways  to  suit  those  who 
had  learned  better. 

But  Eli  must  come  and  look  at  the  horse  he  had 
left  at  the  foot  of  the  hill.  He  knew  his  master  and 
he  had  a  trick —  Still  talking,  Nathan  descended 
the  path  with  Eli  while  Rachel  and  Miriam  returned 
to  their  grinding  at  the  mill,  Rachel  smiling  and  chat- 
ting, but  Miriam  strangely  unresponsive.  And  once 
again  a  shadow  darkened  the  doorway.  With  re- 
spectful salutations  Lemuel  stood  upon  the  threshold, 
seeming  not  to  be  affected  by  the  frigid  greeting  he 
received.  He  had  merely  pushed  on  ahead  of  the 
party,  he  said,  desiring  earnestly  to  see  the  maid 
whom  he  had  missed  sadly.  Her  mistress  would  ex- 
plain why  he  felt  he  had  a  right  to  do  this.  (Miriam 
shrank  from  his  bold  gaze.) 

Isaac  came  more  slowly,  seeming,  in  fact,  to  be 
in  no  haste  to  arrive.  When  he  did  come  he  would 
have  news.  Rumor  said  he  was  soon  to  be  married, 
but  since  he  refused  to  talk  on  the  subject  it  was 
taken  to  mean  that  the  matter  had  been  arranged  by 
his  master's  decree  rather  than  his  own  preference. 
Not  even  the  name  of  the  maid  was  known,  which 


ANTICIPATION  283 

was  further  evidence  that  he  was  not  proud  of  her. 
It  was  not  unlikely  that  his  choice  centered  else- 
where, but  that  might  all  be  gossip.  Certainly,  it 
was  beneath  a  man's  honor  to  bear  tales  of  his 
friend,  and  he  and  Isaac  had  long  been  comrades. 
Well,  Isaac  was  handsome  and  in  favor  with  the  rich 
and  powerful  House  of  Naaman,  so  maids  there 
were  in  plenty  who  would  be  glad  to  unite  their  for- 
tunes with  his. 

The  speaker  may  have  felt  the  chill  with  which  his 
tidings  were  received  or  his  errand  may  have  been 
finished.  At  all  events  he  took  his  departure.  Ra- 
chel watched  him  from  the  door,  shivering  the  while. 

"Let  us  sweep  the  house,"  she  suggested.  "I  feel 
as  if  a  serpent  had  uncoiled  itself  in  our  midst,"  but 
Miriam  said  nothing  at  all. 

Screened  from  observation  by  the  bushes  down  in 
the  gorge,  Lemuel  examined  a  wounded  foot. 
"Cursed  be  those  thorns,"  he  grumbled,  "but  it  is 
worth  it  even  though  I  had  to  leave  my  horse.  Lucky 
that  I  remembered  the  cross-cuts  of  our  scouting 
days  in  Israel !  It  hath  helped  me  to  repay  Isaac  for 
many  long-cherished  grudges." 

He  glanced  at  the  sun  and  uttered  an  exclamation. 
"I  had  better  be  on  my  way  to  Damascus  by  the  time 
he  findeth  that  I  have  tricked  him." 

Near  at  hand  an  animal  whinnied  and  Lemuel's 
eyes  brightened.  A  few  moments  later,  where  the 


284  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

path  led  into  the  valley  road,  a  horse  and  its  rider 
dodged  quickly  behind  a  clump  of  trees  to  avoid  be- 
ing seen  by  a  caravan  at  the  head  of  which  rode 
Isaac,  and  that  afternoon  Nathan  searched  sorrow- 
fully but  in  vain  for  his  steed  of  the  desert. 


CHAPTER  XXVI 
CERTAINTY 

A  TRIFLE  shyly  Miriam  stood  in  the  doorway 
awaiting  Isaac,  who  was  coming  alone  up  the  hill. 
One  look  into  his  face  as  he  came  nearer,  with  eyes 
only  for  her,  and  both  her  hands  were  outstretched, 
but  Eli  pushed  past  her,  speaking  low : 

"I  pray  thee,  Miriam,  let  us  greet  the  man  with 
becoming  dignity.  Behold,  have  I  not  been  as  a  son 
in  thy  mother's  household  and  in  Benjamin's  ab- 
sence is  it  not  my  place  to  welcome  its  guests  ?" 

The  girl  laughed  happily.  "Why,  it  is  only  Isaac. 
He  would  think  it  strange  if  I  delayed  to  meet  him 
and  I  am  so  glad,  so  very  glad,  he  hath  come." 

"But  he  may  misunderstand  thy  eagerness, 
Miriam."  Eli's  tones  were  somewhat  stern.  "Re- 
member, thou  art  no  longer  a  child." 

Miriam  stopped  short,  reddening  painfully. 
"Isaac  hath  never  misunderstood,"  she  retorted. 

Nevertheless,  when  he  took  both  her  hands  in  his 
she  was  for  the  first  time  unable  to  meet  his  gaze 
frankly.  He  found  it  very  charming  and  in  some 
circumstances  it  might  have  been  encouraging,  but 
he  had  seen,  if  he  had  not  heard,  and  now  put  his 
own  construction  upon  the  degree  of  understanding 
between  herself  and  Eli.  With  a  heavy  heart  he 

285 


286  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

noticed  that  Eli  acted  as  host,  a  right  not  only  un- 
disputed but  apparently  expected  by  both  Rachel  and 
Miriam.  From  this  he  drew  further  disquieting  con- 
clusions, which  were  not  contradicted  by  the  conver- 
sation he  was  allowed  with  Miriam  herself. 

She  asked  innumerable  questions  about  the  house- 
hold at  Damascus,  but  there  was  not  half  time  to  an- 
swer fully.  She  told  him  a  great  deal  about  her 
mother's  last  days  and  very  little  about  herself.  Far 
too  little  to  satisfy  him.  She  called  his  attention  to 
the  new  abode,  built  on  the  site  of  the  old  with  the 
gift  she  had  brought  from  the  House  of  Naaman. 
Her  mother  had  never  found  the  dwelling  comfort- 
able. It  had  seemed  too  luxurious  to  have  those  low 
and  wide  benches  on  three  sides  of  the  room  for 
sitting  and  sleeping,  and  she  was  uneasy  about  the 
animals,  banished  to  quarters  in  the  courtyard.  She 
had  felt  more  secure  to  have  them  at  night  on  the 
unfloored  portion  of  the  same  apartment.  But  the 
new  house  was  much  prized  by  Benjamin  and  Ra- 
chel, and  since  they  preferred  to  remain  in  Israel  to 
be  the  stay  and  consolation  of  Rachel's  parents, 
Miriam  was  glad  they  would  have  the  comfort  of  a 
home  like  those  in  Syria. 

The  gift  Isaac  had  just  brought — such  a  generous 
present  from  her  beloved  master  and  mistress — 
should  be  used  to  purchase  a  larger  flock  for  Ben- 
jamin and  thus  secure  a  greater  income.  Then  she 
spoke  of  her  plans  for  Eli  (she  and  Isaac  were  alone 


CERTAINTY  287 

for  a  few  minutes),  plans  which  he  heartily  approved 
because  it  would  please  her.  She  talked  with  a  pretty 
hesitancy  and  with  such  an  evident  gratitude  and  ad- 
miration for  Eli  that  Isaac's  worst  fears  were  con- 
firmed, yet  he  could  not  bring  himself  to  ask  a  ques- 
tion direct.  He  would  wait  a  few  days  and  observe 
for  himself,  and  he  was  comforted  to  an  extent  by 
the  fact  that  she  desired  to  return  to  Damascus.  He 
had  hardly  expected  such  willingness. 

Finally,  Isaac  and  Eli  and  Rachel  and  Miriam  to- 
gether decided  that  the  journey  to  Syria  should  not 
be  undertaken  for  a  week.  Isaac  particularly  wished 
to  see  Benjamin,  and  a  week  would  give  Miriam  time 
to  say  her  farewells  without  haste.  Also  the  soldiers 
would  be  grateful  for  a  rest  in  the  shade  of  the 
mountains.  The  midsummer  heat  of  the  roads  they 
must  travel  was  anything  but  pleasant,  but  circum- 
stances had  granted  them  no  choice.  As  Miriam 
watched  him  depart,  the  virus  of  Lemuel's  remarks 
began  to  be  active  in  her  brain.  Isaac  was  evidently 
not  in  any  hurry  to  return  to  Damascus ! 


It  was  the  morning  of  Miriam's  departure  and 
she  and  Rachel,  from  the  doorway,  were  watching 
the  sun  rise. 

"Thou  art  so  pale,  Miriam.  Thou  dost  not  have  to 
go.  Hast  not  thy  generous  master  freed  thee?  I 
shall  miss  thee  every  day." 


288  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

"And  every  day  will  I  think  of  thee,  Rachel,  and 
of  Benjamin  and  little  Caleb,  and  wish  we  could  all 
be  in  the  same  country  rather  than  separated." 

"But  I  am  better  satisfied  to  know  that  Isaac  is 
going  to  be  married,"  went  on  the  older  woman. 
"His  wife  will  be  like  a  sister,  taking  my  place  to 
thee." 

There  was  no  answer. 

"Why — why — Miriam,"  with  a  bewildered  little 
laugh,  "wouldst  thou  have  me  think — why,  art  thou 
not  glad,  too?" 

"Nay,"  answered  the  girl,  "I  like  not  to  dwell 
upon  the  thought.  Have  I  not  always  been  first  to 
him,  next  after  his  duty  to  his  master?  And  now 
how  greatly  is  he  changed !  A  week  hath  passed  and 
he  hath  never  mentioned  the  maiden's  name  nor  even 
told  me  he  is  to  be  married.  If  it  be  thus  now — " 

Rachel  was  aghast.  Her  tones  were  pityingly 
severe :  "Thou  hast  no  mother,  Miriam,  and  I  must 
speak  plainly  for  thine  own  good.  Isaac  took  thee 
into  captivity  out  of  no  malice.  Thou  wert  one 
of  the  spoils  of  war.  Afterward,  when  he  knew 
thou  wert  sister  to  Benjamin,  the  man  who  had  be- 
friended him,  he  was  sorry  and  tried  to  be  kind,  but 
remorse  is  not  love.  Thou  must  not  expect  it  of 
him." 

The  girl  turned  a  face  as  pink  as  the  sky.  "I  go 
to  the  sepulcher,"  she  said,  and  slipped  hastily  out 
of  the  door — to  confront  Eli. 


CERTAINTY  289 

It  was  a  pale  and  scandalized  Eli,  but  he  spoke 
quietly :  "I  will  go  with  thee,  for  doth  not  my  mother 
lie  there  also?" 

Halfway  down  the  hill  they  met  Isaac  and  Ben- 
jamin in  earnest  conversation.  Isaac  intercepted 
the  pair :  "The  caravan  is  ready.  The  start  await- 
eth  thy  pleasure." 

"In  an  hour,"  Eli  returned,  briefly,  but  Miriam 
answered  not  at  all,  nor  even  raised  her  eyes. 

As  they  plodded  on,  Isaac  turned  sadly  to  Ben- 
jamin :  "I  fear  my  question  is  already  answered." 

Benjamin  put  a  sympathetic  hand  upon  his  shoul- 
der. "Then  for  many  reasons  would  I  be  sorry," 
he  declared,  "yet  peradventure  the  maiden's  mistress 
will  not  let  her  make  such  a  mistake." 

Not  until  they  neared  their  destination  did  Eli 
speak  to  Miriam,  then  he  burst  forth  with  a  vehe- 
mence which  awed  her :  "Could  he  come  with  thee 
to  this  sacred  place?  Canst  thou  share  thy  holiest 
memories  with  him?  Nay,  for  well  thou  knowest 
that  our  two  mothers  lie  here  because  of  the  wounds 
he  inflicted." 

"Say  rather  'the  wounds  of  war,'  Eli.  Isaac  hatfr 
repented  of  his  part  and  hath  made  such  restitution 
as  he  could.  Should  we  count  it  as  naught  ?  I  think 
our  mothers  would  forgive,  and  doth  not  our  Law 
require  it  ?" 

Eli  continued  as  if  he  had  not  heard:  "Tidings 
did  I  hear  in  the  camp  that  thy  mistress  was  to  give 


29o  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

thee  to  him  in  marriage,  but  because  thou  hast  filled 
my  heart  did  I  believe  I  was  in  thine.  I  did  not  know 
thou  wouldst  prefer  the  servant  of  the  rich  man, 
who  hath  manners  which  belong  to  a  king's  court, 
who  is  clothed  in  fine  linen  and  fareth  sumptuously 
every  day.  I  thought  not  thou  wouldst  despise  the 
preacher  of  Jehovah,  whose  lot  will  be  a  far  country 
and  coarse  apparel  and  scanty  food  and  the  contempt 
and  ridicule  of  the  multitude.  Thou  didst  tell  me 
that  it  was  duty  which  called  thee  to  Damascus.  I 
have  just  learned  that  it  was  the  voice  of  thy  beloved. 
Nor  would  I  have  believed  had  I  not  heard  from 
thine  own  lips  through  the  open  door." 

Miriam  lifted  her  head  a  trifle  defiantly.  "What 
thou  sayest  is  as  if  it  were  in  an  unknown  tongue. 
The  tidings  thou  hast  heard  have  not  reached  mine 
.ears,  nor  can  it  be  true  when  well  I  know  that  it 
would  not  be  to  his  liking."  Her  tones  were  bitter. 
'The  poison  of  Lemuel's  remarks  was  still  at 
-work. 

She  went  on  more  calmly :    "Never  have  I  thought 

•  of  Isaac  as  thou  hast  described  him  but  only  as  the 

friend  in  whom  I  could  safely  trust,  who  was  never 

^amused  like  my  mistress  nor  impatient  like  Milcah 

nor  indifferent  like  everyone  else." 

"But  friendship  is  not  love,  Miriam.  Thou  must 
not  think  it." 

Suddenly  he  took  her  in  his  arms.  "Thou  art 
mine,"  he  cried,  fiercely.  "Long  ago  thy  mother 


CERTAINTY  291 

gave  thee  to  me.  Neither  Isaac  nor  any  man  shall 
take  thee  from  me." 

He  drew  a  long,  sobbing  breath,  gazing  at  her 
with  a  face  so  full  of  tragic  sorrow  she  was  appalled. 

"I  owe  thee  so  much — so  much,  Eli,"  she  whis- 
pered, contritely. 

"He  shall  not  take  thee,"  repeated  the  young  man, 
"but  I  shall  go  with  thee  to  Damascus  to  preach  the 
word  of  Jehovah  as  we  have  said,  and  when  the 
time  cometh  I  will  give  thee  to  him  if  it  pleaseth 
thee." 

Releasing  her  not  ungently  he  strode  away.  She 
stood  still  for  a  moment,  then  she  called  after  him, 
her  voice  sweetly  compassionate.  She  begged  him 
to  tarry,  but  he  seemed  not  to  hear,  and  after  a  little 
she  followed  him  to  the  sleeping  place  of  the  dead. 

It  was  not  a  cheerful  party  which  started  that  day 
to  Syria.  Farewell  tears  were  thinly  veiled  under 
encouraging  smiles.  Miriam  was  so  obviously  con- 
siderate for  Eli  that  Isaac  was  plunged  into  the 
depths  of  despondency.  Eli  himself  seemed  lost  in 
painful  reverie.  Nathan,  obliged  to  ride  the  horse 
Lemuel  had  not  had  opportunity  to  take,  loudly  be- 
wailed his  own  better  steed,  while  the  soldier-escort, 
under  its  breath,  cursed  the  merciless  rays  of  the 
sun. 

Hour  after  hour  they  journeyed.  Through  dim 
eyes  Miriam  beheld  a  fleeting  picture  of  the  hilltop 


292  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

villages  and  scattered  groves  of  her  beloved  Israel. 
Here  and  there  they  passed  other  travelers  and  in- 
frequent beggars.  Once,  the  chariot  in  which 
Miriam  and  her  two  maid  servants  were  riding  came 
to  a  sudden  halt.  Apparently  there  was  some  ob- 
struction in  the  road  ahead.  A  leper,  hurrying 
away,  was  yet  near  enough  for  her  to  look  upon  his 
repulsive  countenance.  Shuddering,  she  turned  to 
see  if  Eli  or  Nathan  had  noticed,  but  they  were  busy 
helping  the  soldiers  conceal  a  loathsome  something 
with  a  light  covering  of  earth.  The  leper  was  Ge- 
hazi! 

Isaac  rode  up  with  an  explanatory  word.  He 
pointed  to  the  mound :  "It  is  the  deserter,  Lemuel. 
Some  wild  beast  hath  met  him  at  night  while  he  slept 
and  where  there  was  none  to  help.  The  body  is 
gnawed  and  broken,  but  there  can  be  no  mistake." 

Nathan  called  excitedly  and  Isaac  responded  at 
once.  A  little  later  they  returned  with  Nathan's 
own  horse,  which  had  broken  his  halter — doubtless 
through  fright — and  roamed  at  will  until  reclaimed 
by  his  master.  For  half  an  hour  Miriam  listened 
indulgently  to  the  boy's  enthusiastic  recital  of  the 
capture  and  the  steed's  wonders,  then  Nathan  took 
a  place  in  the  rear.  They  descended  the  hot  gorge 
in  which  roared  the  Jordan,  crossed  its  foaming 
waters,  emerged  into  the  freer  air  of  the  uplands 
and  so  to  the  main-traveled  roads  leading  north. 
Nathan  was  again  beside  Miriam. 


CERTAINTY  293 

"I  have  been  watching  the  party  for  hours,"  he 
declared  with  a  boisterous  laugh.  "Funny  how  it 
rides.  The  soldiers  plod  along  silently,  sometimes 
jesting  or  quarreling.  Obeying  is  their  business. 
Never  once  hath  Eli  turned  his  head.  Already  he 
seeth  himself  a  prophet  of  the  Lord  in  the  strange 
land  toward  which  he  goeth.  But  ever  Isaac  watch- 
eth  thee,  and  always  thine  eyes  are  turned  toward 
Eli." 

As  they  resumed  their  journey  after  the  noon-time 
rest  it  was  Isaac  who  rode  beside  the  chariot.  He 
put  into  her  hands  a  piece  of  sheepskin,  folded  pro- 
tectingly  over  something  evidently  very  precious. 

"Once,"  he  explained,  "when  thou  wert  but  a 
little  maid  and  knewest  not  the  meaning  of  such 
things,  I  bound  these  damson  blossoms  upon  my 
heart  in  token  of  loving  devotion  to  thee.  They 
have  withered,  but  that  for  which  they  stood  has 
never  died.  I  cannot  suppose" — with  an  involuntary 
glance  at  Eli — "that  tnou  wilt  treasure  them  as  I 
have,  but  it  is  thy  right  to  know." 

Without  waiting  for  an  answer  he  dropped  back 
to  his  old  position.  A  long  time  Miriam  stared  at 
the  blossoms,  then,  with  tenderest  care  she  folded 
them  in  their  sheepskin  covering  and  put  them  in 
her  bosom.  He  was  at  her  side  instantly. 

"Thou  dost  not  count  them  as  naught,  Miriam?" 

"Love  is  not  friendship,  Isaac." 

The  thrill  he  had  experienced  suddenly  died.     It 


294  IN  NAAMAN'S  HOUSE 

was  a  moment  before  he  could  answer  in  the  old, 
matter-of-fact  way.  "Then  it  were  only  selfishness, 
Miriam.  If  it  be  not  friendship,  then  it  is  not  love 
either,  for  love  is  friendship  intensified,  glorified." 

She  was  silent.  After  some  hesitancy  he  spoke 
again,  this  time  with  quiet  determination  and  in  the 
speech  of  Israel,  which  they  had  used  before  so  that 
the  maid  servants  might  not  understand. 

"The  hour  hath  come,  Miriam,  when  I  must  tell 
thee  what  thy  mistress  hath  said  and  ask  thee  for 
the  truth."  He  told  her  briefly  the  plans  Adah  had 
outlined  to  him. 

She  made  no  comment. 

"But  because  thou  wert  free  in  Israel  and  but  a 
servant  in  Syria  I  have  wondered  if  thou  art  sac- 
rificing thyself  to  give  advantages  to  Eli." 

The  answer  was  very  faint.    "Nay,  Isaac." 

"Thy  sense  of  duty  is  strong,  Miriam,  and  thou 
art  necessary  to  the  happiness  of  the  household  in 
Damascus,  yet  because  thou  hast  cherished  the  token 
which  hath  meant  so  much  to  me  I  almost  thought — 
peradventure  because  I  so  wished  it  might  be — " 

She  did  not  speak  for  so  long  that  he  peered  under 
the  awning,  beholding  a  face  that  crimsoned  as  it 
looked  into  his  and  in  the  eyes  a  something  which 
lit  his  own  with  rapturous  hope. 

"I  could  not  be  content  to  be  free  when  thou  wert 
still  in  bondage,  Isaac."  The  tones  were  very  low, 
very  sweet,  very  hesitant. 


CERTAINTY  295 

"Miriam,"  he  gasped,  "thou  canst  not  mean — thou 
dost  not — " 

But  evidently  she  did,  for  the  two  maid  servants 
exchanged  smiles  and  meaning  glances,  and  he  con- 
tinued to  ride  beside  the  chariot  while  they  drew  near 
to  Damascus  and  the  glad  welcome  of  the  House  of 
Naaman. 


A     000126255     9 


